NATURE RESERVES - Wildlife Conservation in China: Preserving the Habitat of China's Wild West - page 105

that these herbivores supported a diverse carnivore community as well. Wolves, oft-times
alone but sometimes traveling in packs of up to nine or so, would be seen occasionally,
seemingly in constant motion. Eurasian lynx were also about, although less commonly seen
and supported primarily by the presence of Tibetan wooly hares than by the occasional
opportunity to kill something bigger. And most rarely seen of all—but its presence felt
just the same—were snow leopards, who haunted the craggy cliffs, never too far from
their favored prey, blue sheep.
But as impressive as seeing seven species of artiodactyl in a single valley would be the
equally fantastic story of biodiversity occurring beneath one's feet. For spread throughout
the valley's north-facing plains and slopes were hundreds of thousands of plateau pikas,
the accumulated multitude having virtually pockmarked the soil as each family excavated
its own system of burrows. These pikas and their burrow systems formed the basis for an
elaborate web of other plants and animals, their presence and abundance in turn made
possible only by the pioneering done by the pikas. On and near the areas of pika activ-
ity, passerine birds would be abundant, rufous-necked snow finches, white-winged snow
finches, and Hume's ground jays flitting about, sometimes into and out of pika burrows.
Smaller species, such as lizards of the genus Phyrnocephalus and Mongolian jerboas,
would be taking advantage of the nutrients unearthed by pika digging and the shelter
provided by the resultant burrows. Attracted to this relative plenty amid the harsh alpine
desert would be an array of avian and mammalian predators. Saker falcons would swoop
down from their perches in river-cut banks, eagle owls would waft above in semi-circles,
and larger raptors such as upland buzzards and golden eagles would soar higher yet, or
occasionally be seen perched on hillocks, awaiting an opportune time to become airborne
again. Among mammalian carnivores, one could encounter four predator species, each
with its own unique strategy to capture pikas: Altai weasels squeezing their tube-shaped
bodies into burrows; Eurasian badgers setting up local excavation sites like miniature
quarries; Tibetan foxes trotting along in constant vigilance for an opportunity to pounce
on a pika that had moved just a little too far from its nearest escape; and, most amazing
of all, rust-colored brown bears on their haunches, mobilizing their huge frames and stout
claws to dredge for pikas, frantically chasing after those that escaped.
All of these species and more had managed to persist in Yeniugou despite centuries of
low-intensity pastoral use, originally by Tibetans, then by Kazaks, for the roughly thirty
years beginning in 1954, and more recently yet, by Mongol herders. Domestic livestock
had removed some forage, and the herders themselves had no doubt killed some for them-
selves, yet that these species lived on indicated that these pastoralists had been either few
in number, good conservationists, or both. More amazingly, these species had managed
to recover from the military campaign waged on them during the Great Leap Forward,
when the flesh of wild yaks and Tibetan ass became part of the government's aid program
to reduce the impact of the great famine that it had itself done so much to cause. 1 And,
for the most part, this native biodiversity persisted despite the complete absence of any
formal government protection: no laws prevented legal entry by outsiders, no gates denied
physical access to the valley, and no management programs restricted land use in deference
to wildlife. Yeniugou and its intact wildlife were protected primarily by its harsh climate