THE HIMALAYAS, LADAKH
THE SNOW LEOPARD
For a wildlife sculptor there is always a dream that seems to be beyond one’s grasp. For me that dream has been to find a snow leopard in the wild. The snow leopard is a cat whose range takes in the whole of the Himalaya and Central Asia, running from Bhutan right the way up through Mongolia into China. It is some of the world’s most inhospitable country. The cats live at altitudes of between twelve and seventeen thousand feet; their range coincides directly with that of the blue sheep and ibex which are their primary prey species. The cat is so rarely seen by anyone other than the local herdsmen that to see one is an extraordinary privilege.
I was invited by Dr. Rodney Jackson, the founder of the Snow Leopard Conservancy (SLC), to join him on a trip to Ladakh in northern India. Rodney has studied snow leopard in various parts of their range for many years and is one of the world’s leading authorities on this cat. I flew to Leh, again with Rupert Merton who could not resist the chance of attempting to film the experience. The best time of year to view snow leopard is at the end of January/early February when the weather is at its bleakest. The blue sheep come lower down the mountains and hence the cat will follow its lunch. It also happens to be the time of the mating season which is when you will find one cat calling to another; an eerie and extraordinary sound. Leh at that time of the year is completely cut off from the rest of India as the roads into Ladakh are impassable. You therefore have to fly from Delhi landing at Leh at an altitude of nearly twelve thousand feet which immediately lands you in the danger zone for altitude sickness, let alone frostbite. After a few days of acclimatisation and meeting the SLC crew, principally Rinchen Wangchuk, Jigmet Dadul and Tashi Lundup and indeed Rodney, we set forth up into the Hemis National Park where we were to set up our base camp. It immediately became evident that the attempt to find the snow leopard was going to be considerably more difficult than I could ever have imagined. The mountains are dramatic in their ruggedness, the colour of the rocks are uncannily similar to that of the cat. To use the analogy of looking for a needle in a haystack is to understate the task at hand! Although I had a wonderful telescope and more particularly some very experienced local eyes and knowledge, at the end of the day this only slightly reduced the chance of failure, a sighting is only in the gift of the snow leopard. The snow leopard has exceptionally good sight, astonishing camouflage and is incredibly shy of humans.
Over the days in the field we spent a considerable amount of time both searching the mountains with my telescope and also following up known scent rocks, looking for pug marks and any other signs of the cat. This to no avail, we tried another tactic whereby I spent several nights in a hide, way above the camp on my own. To say it was chilly was a minor understatement and on one night there was a major and rare fall of snow which collapsed both my sleeping bivvy and my hide. However, time was moving on and days were running out and only persistence could enable us to have any chance of finding a cat.
Towards the latter part of our safari, Rodney and Rinchen had to return to Leh and Rupert, poor chap had damaged his back and was tent-bound, not the most convenient place to hurt yourself. We had been joined by two charming Americans, Ami Vitale, a photographer and Paul Kvinta who writes for National Geographic. With great excitement, they had seen fresh pug marks near the camp, but as fate had it they had to return home that morning. Jigmet and I set forth with my trusty backpack studio and followed the tracks way up into the mountains. We came to a point where it was just too dangerous to continue, so reluctantly we backtracked, climbed the mountain opposite and with my scope scanned the area around which we had been. It was with enormous excitement that, albeit at a distance, we saw sitting on a rock a large male snow leopard. It was staring down towards some blue sheep. I have to admit I wept with joy, the aim of not only seeing a cat, but having the chance to sculpt it in such extreme conditions had been achieved. I can quite categorically say that never have I seen such a powerful vision nor had such an astonishing sighting of a wild animal as I did with the snow leopard that day.
Apart from the mystery that hangs over this remarkable cat, sculpturally I find it hugely exciting. The snow leopard has some almost outsized features; large feet, very thick fur which gives an almost flowing look to the rosettes in its camouflage and the tail is phenomenal – very long and very thick. It is a huge balance for the cat as it leaps nimble footedly down and over that extreme terrain after its prey. The tail also helps the cat shelter from the extremes of cold as it curls up out of the wind and snow. There is a heavy appearance to the body, largely due to the fur, but this in itself is a fine signature, making a distinction between it and the other big cats. The face of the snow leopard is also very distinct, it has a prominent forehead and surprisingly small ears; one assumes to protect their extremities from the cold. When it lies down it becomes practically invisible, blending in to the rocks seen, only if you are lucky, due to the twitch of its tail. You could well ask, as indeed I did of myself early on in the expedition, what use it would be sculpturally to see a snow leopard at such a distance. Surely one needs to see it close up to get a feel for its movement, anatomy and character, but having lived for the best part of three weeks in the snow leopard’s environment I had learned so much about the cat that I almost felt part of it. The fact is quite clear; the cat showed me its soul. The sighting which lasted only a few minutes made an impression on me that was so deep that all I have to do is shut my eyes and I can see it as freshly as I could do on that day. I set forth immediately to create what I had seen; a sculpture that for me captures a magical moment. Having walked those mountains, seen those sights, watched prayer flags flying across that extraordinary country, I could come home and feel that I had understood the snow leopard. I could put all that I had learned from the experience into creating a collection of snow leopard sculptures.
The snow leopard, like all big cats is under enormous threat. Its place in the world is anything but assured. It is evident from work done by the charities, the Wildlife Protection Society of India (WPSI) and the Environmental Investigation Agency (EIA), that horrifying numbers of snow leopard have been killed to satisfy the demand for their pelts from China and Tibet. Predation also occurs all too often across its ranges where these meet with cultivated land and farmed stock. Although the Buddhist culture discourages the taking of life, for the protection of their flocks and in desperation, the farmers may resort to killing the snow leopard. SLC has put considerable time and effort into education schemes, homestay operations (guest houses) for tourism and in building predator proof corrals to protect the stock. Much of the education and the homestays are orientated around persuading the local villagers that the cat’s preservation will benefit the community by drawing in the tourist who wants to walk in the footsteps of the snow leopard.
I hope that other people will have the moving experience of seeing the snow leopard as I did while SLC and its partners work to transform the ‘ghost cat’ from a perceived threat (pest) into an asset worth more alive than dead.
