Walk on the wild side

• Source: Global Times
• [06:15 February 09 2010]
• Comments

The guardians of Naqu take a break on patrol.

By Liang Chen

It is getting darker and darker in the middle of the afternoon, night comes early in the Tibetan wilderness. Eight forest rangers pitch camps in the vast wildlife habitat of the Naqu plateau, home to Tibetan antelopes, snow leopards, wild yaks, Tibetan donkeys, black-necked cranes and other rare and endangered species.

As darkness falls, some of the men gather cow droppings to light a campfire. Others make beds to sleep through the freezing night.

These guardians of the Tibetan wilderness, armed with antique pistols to warn off game poachers, are on an annual month-long patrol for the Forest Public Security Bureau of the Naqu Region.

"Life is boring and tough when you see only the same eight faces over 30 days on patrol," says Jigme, deputy director of the bureau, who, like many Tibetans, is called by a single name.

Actually, he sees other faces at night. Tibetan antelopes, wild donkeys and eagles will show their faces around the campfire, which always cheers up Jigme and his fellow guardians of nature.

Their usual food is zanba, traditional Tibetan noodles made from roasted highland barley flour. Jigme says he gets so sick of eating the same noodles in the wilderness that when he returns home from patrol, even the aroma of zanba gives him a stomach ache.

"Most of us get stomach diseases on patrol, without enough nutritio or a fixed dining time," says Jigme, a short but muscular 27-year-old man.

To prepare him for patrol duty, his 29- year- old wife, Kelsang Rum, gives him a box of medicine, mostly to cure stomach ailments.

Kelsang is quite supportive of Jigme's work, but she never stops worrying about him and the danger that lurks when he is on wildlife patrol.

Rangers outgunned

In Tibet, hunting wild animals is both an ancient tradition and a threat to the survival of rare species. Tibetans believe that wild animals have no owners and they belong to the hunters who stalk them. Tibetan game poachers often go hunting in groups. Antelope horns and tiger pelts frequently decorate their homes.

"Most of their guns are aimed at shooting the Tibetan antelope," says another forest ranger, Bama Zegdyu. "Just one strip of raw antelope of leather can be sold for over 800 yuan in winter. But if the leather has been processed into finished goods, it will be worth thousands of dollars. There is a lucrative industry behind the hunters."

"The hunters are bloodless. They will shoot and skin an antelope in two minutes while the animal is still alive and suffering from shock," Jigme says.

In the battle of game poachers against game wardens, Jigme and his fellow rangers are outnumbered and outgunned.

They carry old PLA pistols manufactured in 1964 and 1977. That's not much firepower against game smugglers armed with hunting rifles.

"It is quite dangerous for us to run after the hunters, since most of them are local villagers who are familiar with the area. They know every road and corner. It's more dangerous when patrolling in the unpopulated zones. The hunters can attack us easily," says Zegdyu, still in his 50s, but a game warden in the bureau for more than 10 years.

His friends call Zegdyu "the human map" because he knows the topography and can find his way out of any tight spot. He admits that "fewer people risk poaching in the district nowadays. Most of the poachers are local villagers and the people from Qinghai and Sichuan."

Zegdyu used to fight the game hunters face-to-face.

He and his fellow rangers have done a brilliant job protecting wildlife in the sparsely populated Naqu zone, also known as North Tibet, 4,500 meters above sea level, where wild animals live and multiply in valley forests and on grassland prairies.

The hard work of the game wardens and their dedication to the preservation of nature has allowed the number of antelope in China to multiply from 50,000 to 120,000 in recent years.

In the Naqu district alone, more than 50,000 antelopes were spotted during a 20-day investigation jointly conducted by the Naqu forest police and a research center.

Eight game wardens patrolling 400,000 square kilometers in North Tibet might seem impossible to most people.

But the Forest Public Security Bureau of Naqu Region has achieved success year after year.