Ace hunters of wall and window
Prof Meena has also observed a house lizard assume the guise of an unusual predator; He has seen it feeding on a Common Tiger butterfly at night in the zone of his backyard’s light; This butterfly species stores milkweed alkaloid poisons in its tissues and is thus normally avoided by birds and other predators.
Principal of the SBK Government PG College, Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, professor (zoology) Shyam Meena was seated in his office when assistant professor of chemistry TK Saini burst into his room exclaiming, “Sir, one of your research papers is eating another one of your research papers! Please come quickly before nothing is left for your research!” In the room opposite the principal’s office, Saini pointed Meena to a Bengal monitor lizard (BML) swallowing a house lizard on the window mesh. The prey had been sheltering from the searing Thar heat on the window. The BML, knowing that house lizards are found on windows at this hour, had struck decisively.
Meena nurtures an intense, unusual interest in observing the diverse and under-researched behaviour of the humble, modest creatures dwelling in proximity to humans. An interest that is worthy of emulation. On a planet where biodiversity is under critical threat, the zeal to conserve it should, like charity, begin at home. What is the point of faraway travels to photograph charismatic tigers when our homes and gardens have been turned inhospitable to sparrows, lizards and honey bees?
The gentle professor’s expense of time and energy has yielded a wealth of esoteric predation observations. Squirrels are well known to feed on nuts, fruits and grasses. However, Meena has observed a squirrel capturing and eating a house lizard on a window mesh and another feeding on a sparrow. Meena speculates that these could be pregnant squirrels needing rich sources of protein.
Meena has also observed a house lizard assume the guise of an unusual predator. He has seen it feeding on a Common Tiger butterfly at night in the zone of his backyard’s light. This butterfly species stores milkweed alkaloid poisons in its tissues and is thus normally avoided by birds and other predators. But the lizard gobbled it up and was none the worse after the supposedly dangerous dinner item!
Trusted companion in danger
It is best to be ‘vocal for local’ when equipping oneself for a penetration of the dense Shivalik foothill jungles. I harbour a disdain for the fancy hiking gear of branded stores. I prefer a stout, battling bamboo ‘lathi’ and have a collection of eight lathis varying from 400g to 1 kg bought at ₹150 apiece from the bamboo market in Sector 42 C, Chandigarh. I recommend these for the serious jungle explorer.
These lathis are put up for sale after a trial by fire. Fresh bamboo lengths are baked in furnaces to straighten them, remove moisture, harden them to a high-density and lend a brownish finish. These lathis can virtually dent a rock with a blow or cleaven a skull without suffering more than a nick themselves! I have been carrying a lathi for my jungle rambles for over two decades and it has worked wonders in instilling confidence and a sense of security. My rambles range from 8 to 20 km in jungles where there is no cellphone coverage for emergency support. All I have is my wits and an understanding of animal behaviour. But what really works is luck, pluck and my lathi.
Wild animals recognise a lathi’s lethality as villagers use these to herd livestock and guard crops against attacks by wild animals. The lathi even deters leopards, wild boars and aggressive nilgai / sambar males that I suddenly happen to chance upon. It dissuades creatures observing my passage from hidden proximity. I have almost trodden upon pythons, vipers and cobras in the bush but the lathi works to persuade them against delivering an annoyed nip on my ankle.
Criminals, poachers and the wood mafia can turn malevolent to a lone rambler. Humongous buffalo males turned out of villages are prone to rash temper. Stray dogs opportunistically hunt fawns in drought seasons and literally have blood dripping from their whiskers. They do not take kindly to my efforts at extricating these hapless fawns from their clutches. They typically circle me and snarl like crouching wolves for my blood. But the menacing lathi, a nerveless demeanour and a stern warning interspersed liberally with rural abuses kept hounds and their ilk at bay.
The slippery surfaces of the hillocks are replete with loose pebbles and soil. The lathi plays the role of a ‘third leg’ as it anchors my body weight and helps stabilise me as I navigate precipitous descents. And, of course, not to forget the imperial disdain with which the sturdy lathi brushes aside porcupine-like thorny thickets as it clears my passage.
