SPECIES STORIES - Wildlife Conservation in China: Preserving the Habitat of China's Wild West - page 163

young forage in larger groups, but even so, groups of more than twenty Tibetan gazelles
are rare; most often, group sizes range from three to a dozen or so. 139
Whereas species such as argali and wild yak appear to be highly sensitive to disturbance
from humans, abandoning entire drainages when they become inhabited by people, Tibetan
gazelles are characterized by only small-scale (geographic) and short-term (temporal)
displacement. True enough, one does not see Tibetan gazelles grazing contentedly among
domestic livestock or moseying across highways; they are highly vigilant and routinely
flee from men on horseback, roving herds of domestic sheep, or jeeps bumping along
primitive roads. But such displacement appears to create only a minor inconvenience for
them: when the horses, livestock, or vehicles have safely passed, gazelles seem willing
to return to their favored foraging spots. 140
Thus, only the very small areas subject to permanent disturbance (e.g., herder homes,
fenced areas) become areas truly denied to Tibetan gazelles; they seem able to find hid-
ing places in habitats where everything would appear to be perfectly transparent, able to
discern small cul-de-sacs and blind corners within what appears, to the human eye, to be
a continuous and smooth habitat surface.
Tibetan Wild Ass: Too Bold to Submit
Wildlife biologists, along with all natural scientists, are trained (and correctly so) to view
animals through the prism of evolution and natural selection, and to avoid anthropomor-
phizing our subjects. That said, if there is one species in western China to which it is
difficult to avoid attributing human-like intentions, it is the Tibetan wild ass (also called
kiang). These are animals that really seem to have a personality. At times clown-like,
they seem to take on the role of official jester of the steppe. At others, they appear to
deliberately taunt the humans with whom they share the grasslands, willing to cede their
space but not before offering a kind of asinine insult, saluting with the equine version of
a shaking fist, giving human interlopers, as it were, the hoof. Here, we are talking about
an ass with an attitude.
I know better of course, and realize that these impressions are likely due in part to
the animals' appearance (comically oversized head, stiff mane, erect ears, harlequin-like
coloration), and in part to elements from their own intraspecific behavioral repertoires that
are called upon in their interactions with humans. But try as I might, I still find it difficult
to rid myself of the impression that these animals look upon humans with a mixture of
derision and contempt, laughing at us even as they run from us.
Two behavioral traits in particular come to mind. Social groupings are usually domi-
nated by a territorial male who makes it his business to investigate the source of disturbance
prior to sounding the general alarm that it's time to leave. 141 This often results in individual
stallions approaching humans, seemingly out of curiosity, at least until it is clear that get-
ting any closer is risky. Even more striking is the tendency of groups of Tibetan wild ass
to race across their flat grasslands in response to a moving vehicle, not—as would seem
adaptive—in a direction that would provide them the most security in the least time, but
rather toward the vehicle, insisting on crossing in front of it. Only once across the vehicle's