Birding with Ram Gopalakrishnan: March 2021

Can a wonderland go to the brink of annihilation and then resurrect itself magically against all odds? Assam’s Manas National Park and Tiger Reserve, on the border with Bhutan, had been poached and encroached upon for a couple of decades, a collateral damage from the Bodo people’s agitation for a separate identity of their own. When I last visited the park in 2006, the park was just stumbling its way out of years of destruction: returning on a birding trip here 15 years later, would it resume its status as the one of the last strongholds of the Terai grassland habitat, largely wiped out by agriculture over almost the whole of the Northeast? And vanishing with their shrinking habitat were the highly endangered species that cannot survive outside this habitat: Bengal florican, black-breasted parrotbill, Jerdon's and slender-billed babblers, Indian grassbird, swamp francolin and Finn's weaver. A list any birder worth his salt would give his right hand to see!

In search of the Bengal florican

When visiting India, most tourists would head to the Taj Mahal: when in Manas the natural first destination for us was the florican, best seen in the eastern grassland part of the park where we set aside an entire day for this and other grassland specialists. Low grass on either side as far as eye can see, the mountains of Bhutan in front and the piercing call of the black francolin in the background was the sylvan setting for morning birding in the eastern Bhuyanapara range. The magnificent black, white and copper colored male florican was easily spotted from a distance with its black head sticking out like a periscope above the grass. Spotting is the easy part: they were shy of our vehicles but we still saw half a dozen individuals. Breakfast afterwards tasted especially flavorful!

Grassland birding: the tough and the easy

The higher elephant grass into which we headed next was both easy and tough to bird in: the striated babblers and Siberian stonechats were much easier to see than the rare ones we were after. Still, a succession of lifers ensued: the handsome slender-billed babbler with its variety of browns was followed by the chestnut-capped babbler with its striking snowy white head. The Indian grassbird called away but yielded us only a fleeting glimpse, so also the golden-headed cisticola. Who said grasslands are boring and free of bird life?

We headed north into the forest, where a steady stream of forest dwellers interrupted our gypsy drives. Our guide Rustom Basumatary had an uncanny ability to hear bird calls above the engine’s noise and our list of species swelled. Remember, our group leader Nikhil Bhopale adheres to a strict policy of not using bird call playbacks. Memorable was our furtive tiptoe to a forest pool where a black-tailed crake posed for the perfect shot.

We then headed to the former seed farm at Kokilabari, just outside the park and what an afternoon ensued! As many as seven more male floricans were sighted: not a single one of the well camouflaged females however. Hen and pied harriers, the males with their stunning black and white patterns, systematically quartered their prey a few meters above the ground. A short-eared eagle owl was literally the sundowner for the day.

Flushing out flying floricans

Next morning we headed straight north into the Bansbari range, initially through open grassland: The piercing call of he black francolin alternated with peacock calls. Our vehicle startled a florican male by the roadside and soon enough there were three of them in flight all around us! Their white wings were a give away even from a long distance and we feasted our eyes on them, content in the knowledge that the biggest single population worldwide of this highly endangered bird is securely protected here.

Lunch was spent at the iconic Upper Bungalow at Mothanguri watching the Manas river tumble out of Bhutan into India: this forest bungalow bids fair to be ranked as one of the most scenic in India. We spent the afternoon enjoying the view and idly photographing a common merganser expertly fishing on the near bank. As we headed back to the exit, a group of Kalij pheasants spent several minutes boldly foraging on the road in front of us, impervious to our vehicles and cameras.

To round off our coverage of various habitats, we started the next morning in the thick broadleaved forest adjacent to the Manas river. Broadbills are always a magical experience for any birder: it’s a toss-up whether the silver-breasted or the long-tailed is prettier. Till you run into the red-headed trogon or the Sultan tit in the next tree! We surprised a pair of great hornbills in dense forest, and their wing beats made loud whoosh-whooshs as they took off. The puff-throated babblers were easily seen in the forest undergrowth but the cryptic Abbott's babbler was easily heard but seen just once.

After lunch, we cast a last throw of the dice in the Bhuyanpara grasslands: we were rewarded by sightings of the Indian (formerly rufous-rumped) grassbird and a Chinese (formerly white-tailed) rubythroat, with its red throat shining like a beacon in a sea of brown grass. And of course more floricans, promptly flying off on seeing us.

Most people visit Manas for the big mammals: the big three (elephant, buffalo and rhino) were in abundance and tiger pugmarks reminded us that this was a tiger reserve. The rhino population of 30 reintroduced individuals (from Kaziranga and Pobitora) has swelled to 46 and there is a healthy population of swamp deer (also reintroduced) which serves as the staple herbivore here. A far cry from the situation a couple of decades ago, when poaching was rampant and large mammals almost wiped out. Miraculously, Manas has recovered to where it was in the 1980s.

Next time someone tells you grasslands make are boring and empty, you know where to send them: with its charismatic big mammals, the Bengal florican and superlative forest birding, Manas makes for the complete package, one to rival Kaziranga and perhaps exceed it one day!