An Interesting Day

Rajesh Thomas

It was a balmy December evening. The golden orb of the setting sun on the distant hills was turning the evening sky into different hues of orange and yellow. Up high in the east was the revered figure of Carver Marsh, the pioneering Englishman who opened up the Annamallai Valley from the then thick, steaming, tropical rain forests into verdant tea plantations looked distantly on to the valley below. I stepped out of my office and looked yonder, wondering what to do next. My wife had gone to her parents’ home in Chennai as our first child was due any moment. I was home alone and was generally footloose most evenings. 

My reverie was broken by the screech of a motor cycle. I looked up and saw my fellow Assistant Manger Aditya Rana dismount. Rana was a cherubic faced, bespectacled, fair young man bubbling with enthusiasm and was the junior assistant manager with me at Velonie Tea Estate Valparai. Rana descended from semi-royalty and his linage could be traced back in time to the present day royal family of Nepal. Rana and I got along well and had many common interests especially the love of the wild. 

 I enquired, “How are things?”
 Rana replied with a toothy grin, “Things can’t be better.”

Indeed things couldn’t have been better. The estate had performed especially well on the yield front and the factory had churned out some quality teas, keeping the head honchos in the company happy; contented and off our backs for some time. Seeing us both together Chandran our office peon stepped out into the verandah and handed us each a steaming cup of tea. December was the start of the dry weather in the hills and the start of the sporting season. Rana and I contemplated attending the cricket nets at the nearby staff club as we sipped our teas. 

Then Hamza, our estate tractor driver, came with news that there was herd of elephants at the entrance of the estate. Immediately both of us exchanged  uncomfortable glances. Elephants inside the estate during the winter months were generally bad news as it is their calving season. Newborn calves find travelling difficult and the herd tends to stay put for some more time, disturbing the general routine of the estate. 

 Hastily we gulped our teas and jumped on our motor cycles and scurried towards the elephants. On the western end of the estate bordering the coffee estate, about a hundred yards away from the main road stood a dozen elephants of myriad sizes and shapes. Elephant herds have a matriarchal order and the older cow elephants take the decisions and lead the herd. The elephants were very disturbed and milled around uncomfortable in an agitated manner, throwing clumps of grass and kicking the mud around. As we sensed the herd was not comfortable with our presence we beat a hasty retreat. Plans to play cricket were shelved. 

The next morning saw a frantic Rana searching for me and when he saw me he told me excitedly that as expected, one of the elephants had given birth to a calf in the night. For some unknown reason, the herd had abandoned the calf and the forest guards were already on the spot. It is very rare for elephants to abandon a calf, though it has happened before. Naturalists have not been able to decipher the reasons for this. 

 We rushed to the spot, and a sad picture presented itself to us. The elephant calf was weak from lack of nourishment and was struggling even to stand. Its sad and pitiful eyes were painful to look at. It must have been around 12 hours since its birth and the forest guards doubted whether it had even had its first drink of milk. It was a wonder that it had even survived so far, considering that the area had a plethora of carnivores. Meanwhile the watchers from the coffee estate said that the elephant herd had moved several kilometers deep into their estate. It became apparent that it was highly unlikely that the herd would come back to claim the calf. 

The government veterinary doctor was on the way from Pollachi (nearest big town at the foot hills) and it would take a couple of hours for him to reach - it would be midday before he arrived. Rana and I had grave doubts whether the calf would last that long. The lowly forest guards also had no inkling on how to handle the solution. 

Photo of a two day elephant calf from the internet. Pic by Sean Gallup on Getty Images

As we were wondering about the predicament on our hands, Rana jumped on his motorcycle and said, “I will be back in half an hour and keep praying that nothing happens in that half an hour.”

It was a traumatic half an hour, watching the life ebb out of the pathetic little creature. Rana came flying back with one of the estate staff behind him on the motorcycle. The staff had a plastic bucket, two tins of Farex baby food, six packets of Glucose and two feet of plastic garden hose. Half a bucket of water was fetched from the nearby stream and Rana feverishly mixed the baby food and the glucose in the water. We watched anxiously as Rana started forcing the liquid mess into the calf’s mouth through the garden hose. The calf was too weak to resist. Slowly, in about twenty minutes, the bucket was empty. We waited with bated breath to see the reaction and slowly a little life came in the calf’s eyes. In about an hour the calf miraculously started to show life and tried to stand on its wobbly legs. It stumbled and fell a couple of times and finally managed to stand without falling. A resounding cheer went up from all the bystanders as the surprised calf seemed to wonder what all the fuss was.

As the energy levels went up, the little calf became a bundle of fun and we the surrogate mothers its playmates. It would sneak quietly up to one of us and would butt us in the seat of our pants. It took fancy to one of the estate workers and teased him continuously. It would affectionately come up and curl its trunk around our legs and look up at us with its beady little eyes. Soon our Group Manager Vivek Aiyanna came looking for us. The little fellow tried cautiously to feel Vivek’s legs, much to everyone’s amusement. Soon one more batch of baby formula and glucose was sent for, and this time it was guzzled greedily. 
 

The forest ranger and the veterinarian arrived and they complimented us at the good job done. There remained one last thing to be finished. The forest officials had decided to take the calf to the elephant camp at Varagalayar, near Top Slip (a part of Indira Gandhi Wild Life Sanctuary), where it would be under the care of professionals. A mini truck was brought. A serious discussion was held to decide on the easiest method to get the calf on the truck. Various ideas were floated. Behind us the truck driver lowered the tailgate and straight away the little fellow hopped on to the truck. Probably its instincts told him where its future would be secure. 

As we saw our new friend disappear on the horizon to a safe life, a feeling of satisfaction swept over us at what had been accomplished. Rana turned towards me and said, “Things couldn’t have been better.” I tended to agree. 

Well things got even better. In a few days it was Christmas, and the next day my son was born. 

 

Carver Marsh monument covered in mists: Image by TripAdvisor