Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
namese, then the Khmer Rouge, and then the Cambodian army had used the Mondulkiri area
as their larder, living on the meat of the same species tigers prefer to hunt. Therefore, just like
the tiger, Eld's deer is endangered. Since the doe usually has only one fawn every two years,
it would take some time for this species to recover from overhunting even if given sufficient
protection.
As director of the Mondulkiri conservation program, Craig was responsible for protecting
the park's wildlife, which primarily meant keeping the animals safe from poachers. Later that
day over coffee, Barney recounted how effective that protection had apparently been. When
he and Craig went out for a walk in 2008, for example, there they were—bantengs, out in the
open during late morning, as calm as could be.
Seeing bantengs lose their fear of grazing in the open during the day was something Barney
couldn't have dreamed possible in 2000. He added, “It is amazing what five years of effect-
ive law enforcement can do—species can start to recover and even change their behavior.”
When the human hunters disappear, as they had in this part of Mondulkiri, some formerly
common species, such as bantengs, go back to being diurnal. Feeding out in the open without
worrying about hunters probably reduced their energy demand and perhaps gave them access
to more nutritious grazing areas. The ability to shift back to diurnal grazing might put them
on a higher nutritional plane and allow individuals to produce more offspring.
Spotlighting for game at night—as we had in the Cerrado with Carly Vynne (chapter 6)—is
always a good way to find rare mammals that move close to roads. We piled into the back
of a pickup just before 9:00 p.m., when nocturnal activity is at its peak. The beam of the
powerful spotlight arced across the jeep track, seeking reflective eyeshine of whatever might
be out there. “There!” whispered someone looking to the left. The light showed a jungle cat
intercepted on its evening prowl. The beam was bright enough to illuminate the dark tip of its
tail. Along the track we encountered plenty of barking deer but no more Eld's deer: we had
all hoped to see a large buck with a dramatic set of antlers. Perhaps once the charred grass
layer flushed with new green shoots, the Eld's deer and herds of bantengs and gaurs would
be more visible.
The next day, Barney, Nick, and Craig were keen to take us on an afternoon trip on
the Srepok River. We stepped into long-prowed boats with extended propeller shafts, the
ideal craft for navigating the shallows. As we headed upriver, tree swifts swooped over us,
mixed in with needletails, the latter resembling flying cigars. Wreathed hornbills and the
more common oriental pied hornbills flapped over the canopy of the riverine forest. Moving
between trees were gorgeous red-billed blue magpies, while green malkohas shimmied up the
branches. Barney directed us to the best place to see the unusual silver langur monkey. As if
on command, a small troop appeared in a fig tree along the river.
The drivers stopped the boats to afford us a better view of the rare primates. Most monkey
species love figs, and some hunters attribute monkeys' tasty meat to heavy fig consumption.
