As I headed to Ladakh after a gap of 18 years, I could not wait to see how the place had changed. The first time, I motorcycled from Delhi to Leh, drawn by the stark and rugged moonscape of Ladakh. This time, accompanied by my son Adit, it was a birding trip and we chose to fly into Leh and move around the birding hotspots by car.
Several factors contribute to making Ladakh a unique birding destination, a “melting pot of bird movements” as Otto Pfister says in his book Birds and Mammals of Ladakh. For one, it is situated on the border between the Palearctic (accentors, finches, ducks, hawks, etc.) and the Indo-Malayan (pheasants, babblers, pittas, and so on) zoogeographic zones and has bird species from both the zones. Since it forms the westernmost tip of the Tibetan plateau, quite a few Tibetan species can also be found in Ladakh. And, a lot of migrants stop in Ladakh as it is the last stopover, or the first, during the annual spring and autumn movements of birds across the Himalayas.
The dry summer months of July and August also attract summer visitors that breed here. The most notable of them is the black-necked crane, Ladakh being the only breeding ground in India for the species: the crane happens to be the State bird of Ladakh.
Thriving in ‘hostile’ conditions
Ladakh, which translates to “Land of the High Passes”, is a plateau sandwiched between the Karakoram range to the north and the Himalayas to the south, with the Ladakh and Zanskar ranges running through it. Most of the land falls in rain-shadow areas, making it a high-altitude cold desert, and the temperatures in winter can get as low as -45°C. Yet, more than 300 birds have been sighted in the Union Territory. Though mostly passage migrants or summer visitors, the resident birds too have managed to thrive in the “hostile” conditions. The inaccessibility of Ladakh and the Buddhist way of life of the residents have in no small measure contributed to preserving the environment in the past. That may be changing.
Blanford’s snowfinch on the banks of Tso Kar. | Photo Credit: Subash Jeyan
When I went to Ladakh as a biker, I could see only the almost alien-like landscape and how the people had managed to craft a living culture here. Yet, the wildlife, especially the birds, was so abundant that in spite of myself, the proto-birder in me managed to photograph a couple of chukar partridges and a family of breeding bar-headed geese.
But this time, we had eyes only for the birds and the wildlife. Sandeep Chakraborty, our tour organiser and birding guide, had charted out a flexible itinerary although the hotspots we wanted to visit were already known to us. And what a rich haul we had. As we flew into Leh, we wondered what our first “lifer” would be. It turned out to be the omnipresent Eurasian magpie: a relative of the crow that cannot be seen anywhere else in India outside Ladakh.
Also Read | Changpas in Ladakh see life disrupted by climate change
In Gyamtsa village along the Indus river, we sighted the mountain chiffchaff, white-spotted and red-spotted bluethroat, fire-fronted serin, black redstart, ibisbill and the Mongolian finch among others.
Pangong Tso, the 134-km long brackish water lake at an altitude of around 14,000 ft, 40 per cent of which is in India and the rest in China, was a little disappointing for us as far as birding was concerned but, once past Spangmik and Man, the wildlife slowly revealed itself. As we scouted around Merak on the shores of Pangong, what should dart across our path but a mountain weasel. It took us a few moments to recover from the surprise and start clicking madly, but it was definitely one of the highlights of the tour.
Sighting ‘signature’ species
It was in the plains of Hanle that we struck it rich. We got to see almost all the “signature” birds of Ladakh: the black-necked crane, upland buzzard, Eurasian eagle-owl, and desert wheatear; and also the signature mammal from the region, the Pallas’ cat.
A chukar partridge at Wari La. | Photo Credit: Subash Jeyan
But it was also in Hanle, at least on the way to Hanle somewhere near Chushul, that we got to witness first hand one of the very real dangers confronting wildlife, especially birds, in Ladakh. As we were coasting in our van, we saw a common merganser with seven chicks in a stream near the road. As we got out of the van to take photographs, we saw that a dog, too, had noticed the merganser and was making its way purposefully towards the flock. As the dog quickened its pace, the merganser noticed the danger and took off, diverting the dog’s attention from the chicks and to itself. As if on cue, all the chicks dived underwater and stayed submerged; the dog started chasing the mother, who led the canine far away from the chicks. Meanwhile, the chicks surfaced and scampered to a presumably safe place. One hopes that the mother eventually found its way back to the chicks.
The Buddhist creed against taking another life has an unexpected impact on wildlife as Ladakh is witnessing a proliferation of feral dogs. Lobzang Visuddha, founder-chairman of the Wildlife Conservation and Birds Club of Ladakh (WCBCL), who led the movement to recognise the black-necked crane as the State bird and the snow leopard as the State animal after Ladakh became a UT, agrees that it is a real problem. “Yes, after anthropogenic activities such as infrastructure development, stray, or long-ranging dogs, are major threats, leading to even the extinction of rare wild animals. The dogs eat small chicks or eggs of the black-necked cranes and even chase the snow leopard. Recently, even Pallas’ cat and Eurasian lynx were hunted and killed by stray dogs in Hanle,” he says.
A Eurasian eagle-owl near Hanle. | Photo Credit: Subash Jeyan
Tsewang Nurboo, a naturalist and guide based in Leh, believes that an effective measure would be to “create awareness and educate local communities about the impact of feral dogs on wildlife. Awareness campaigns help people understand the importance of managing feral dog populations and encourage responsible pet ownership to prevent domestic dogs from becoming feral,” he says.
Tourism as a nuisance
Increased tourism and infrastructural growth have a negative impact on wildlife, particularly birds, he adds. “The construction of roads, hotels, and other tourist facilities disturbs habitats. Birds, in particular, rely on specific habitats for feeding, breeding, and nesting. Habitat fragmentation makes it difficult for these species to thrive. The presence of tourists can further disturb birds, especially during breeding seasons. Frequent disturbances can cause birds to abandon their nests.”
Also Read | ‘Our excesses are the root cause of destruction elsewhere’: Arati Kumar-Rao
Our last destination was the interconnected lakes of Tso Kar, which is a salt water lake, and Startsapuk Tso, a fresh water lake, and the wetland complex around Tso Kar. Apart from the usual migrant ducks, we came upon a huge flock of Tibetan sandgrouses, ground tits, and a lone Blanford’s snowfinch.
But the crowning glory was neither a bird nor mammal. Adit is a keen herper; and as we were walking around the banks of Tso Kar, we noticed a sudden movement. It was a well-camouflaged montane toad-headed agama, his very first herp sighting in the trip. Ladakh had kept the best for the last.
Subash Jeyan was an editor/writer with The Hindu Literary Review/Sunday Magazine and Frontline. He is the co-translator of The Bharathi I Knew, a memoir on the Tamil poet Subramania Bharathi.
COMMents
SHARE