Wilpattu National Park: A Recollection

The morning chill nipped at our faces as we sped into the wilds of Wilpattu National Park, sharp at 6.35 am on the 13th of December 2016, all armed for a two-night stay at the Manawila Bungalow.

Even as we entered the park, the wild greeted us, with the vibrant crowing of the Sri Lankan Junglefowl (Gallus lafayettii) bidding us good morning. The list of wildlife in our notebooks steadily grew as we passed stands of monsoon forest, lakes, thorn-scrub, and, of course, the characteristic villus of Wilpattu. We passed several herds of Spotted Deer (Axis axis), which often fled at our appearance but still allowed us good views. The villus hosted a fair sprinkling of water birds – for example, the Indian Darter (Anhinga melanogaster), the Painted Stork (Mycteria leucocephala), Spot-billed Pelican (Pelecanus philippensis) as some of the residents; and the Black-tailed Godwit (Limosa limosa), Golden Plover (Pluvialis fulva), and Pintail Snipe (Gallinago stenura) as some of the migrants.

Within the dark, gloomy trails through the forest, too, we found birds, most notably the Crested Serpent Eagle (Spilornis cheela) several of which we found along the trails, each alone, seated on high branches overhanging the route, like sentinels watching our progress through their territory. While driving along the forest trail, the guide discovered fresh leopard-footprints – not even five minutes old. They had been clearly imprinted upon the tracks of the jeep that had driven just before us.

We followed the tracks, on and on and on…until the tracks veered off and were lost in the forest. The leopard was gone, missed by a whisker.

Our first stop was Kumbukwila, where we had breakfast. Glimpsing a little brown bird flitting at the edge of the forest, we went to investigate; it was a migrant Brown-breasted Flycatcher (Muscicapa muttui). Leaving Kumbukwila, we moved on through the forest, catching glimpses of the best songbird in Sri Lanka, the White-rumped Shama (Copsychus malabaricus). We also witnessed a fight between two Giant Squirrels (Ratufa macroura). 

We arrived at the bungalow at 11.30 am. It stood in front of the Mana Wila, providing us an excellent view of forest, grassland and lake. Walking out to the shore of the villu, and closely examining the environment, we found such things as empty exoskeletons moulted off by dragonfly larvae, tracks of Spotted Deer, hare droppings – and tiny insectivorous sundew plants (Drosera) scattered all over.

Back indoors, we found a Stripe-tailed Bronzeback snake (Dendrelaphis tristis) hunting the big Bark Geckos (Hemidactylus leschenaultii) of the bungalow. How the slender little snake would have swallowed such a fat gecko, we couldn’t explain.

We went on the evening game drive at 2.35 pm, and in front of Manik Wila, we crept up to a herd of Spotted Deer and observed them for some time; they seemed alarmed by something, so we were kept on our feet, guessing whether or not it would be a leopard. Disappointingly, their alarm calls died down, and we were left wondering whether it was us that spooked them in the first place.

A pair of Malabar Pied Hornbills - the female on the left, the male on the right 

We resumed our journey, but we did not see any leopards. Night fell, and headlights were switched on. A Black-naped Hare (Lepus nigricollis) crouched in the middle of the track, but as we approached, it sprang off. A Jerdon’s Nightjar (Caprimulgus atripennis) flew up and away, barely visible, like a ghost.

The full moon rose like a golden coin in a velvet sky. It was going to be a white night. We returned to the bungalow, had dinner, and curled up in the beds, which had been placed on the veranda with a full view of the villu, waiting for wildlife to come and say hello.

And they did. Two Wild Boars (Sus scrofa) came shuffling along. A herd of about eleven Spotted Deer tiptoed out of the bushes and grazed on the fertile grasslands on the shore. They moved like slender, nervous phantoms in the pale moonlight. A pair of Golden Jackals (Canis aureus lanka) prowled around for some time; then went back into the forest. Frogs and crickets struck up their nightly orchestra, each belting out their own tune. Jerdon’s Nightjars were calling from all sides, adding to the chorus. Soon it became bitterly cold, and we fell into a fitful sleep.

***

Early birds were in full-song with the dawn chorus the next day as we left on the morning drive at 6.09 am. Driving through the forest, we stopped to check out a bird – and then we were suddenly distracted by movement on the opposite side. 

A Barking Deer (Muntiacus muntjak) was browsing on the undergrowth just a few metres away. Wilpattu, it turned out, was the best place than anywhere else to see this elusive creature. We watched it nervously foraging for a while, and then we moved on, leaving it in peace. A Golden Jackal came trotting right towards us on the track, but then it cunningly slipped into the forest, passed us in a wide circle, and emerged behind us. Presently we emerged into open country; here we found tracks of a Sloth Bear along with dung, but the animal itself was nowhere to be seen. 

We passed another stretch of forest, and just where it opened out to grassland, we noticed yet another little brown bird. And this, when looking closely, turned out to be an endemic Brown-capped Babbler (Pellorneum fuscocapillum) – a common but very elusive bird. 

Emerging into grassland, we had an astonishing glimpse of three Lesser Adjutants (Leptoptilos javanicus) feeding in the same field. These birds are rare, and to see three together was remarkable – perhaps because they seemed to be in the breeding season.

Wilpattu has extensive sand dunes covered with patchy thorn-scrub, and as we looked out, we saw the sands crisscrossed with footprints of various animals – including leopard tracks, fresh ones.

Having found a lead, the guide tracked the footprints down to a plain, in front of Kokkari Villu, which had grassland and patches of thorn-scrub. We halted, and looked across to a gap between two thickets, and, sure enough, lying there was a Sri Lankan Leopard (Panthera pardus kotiya), a female. But our appearance, however subtle, might have disturbed her, so she slowly rose and padded away into the thicket. We tried searching for her, but failed, so we left. 

After completing a round of the nearby villus, we passed by Kokkari again, to see if we stood another chance. 

A handsome male leopard came striding out of the bush, apparently the mate of the shy female who had avoided us before. As if to compensate for her shyness, he obligingly remained in full view – so that we, and many other visitors, could admire him at will. 

Female Crested Treeswift (Hemiprocne coronata)

Little Egret (Egretta garzetta)

Indian Pond Heron (Ardeola grayii)

After lunch, we drove towards the coast, to see the historical side of Wilpattu. Most of the journey was through scrub jungle and dry forest, and sometimes it seemed as if we were driving through tunnels of green.

The first stop was the ancient palace of the Yakkha queen Kuveni – or rather, what was left of it. About six or seven stone pillars about six feet tall were scattered in a small clearing, some fallen, some tilted, some still straight. 

The second stop was the cliff of Kudrimalai Point, which is a site wreathed in history, especially prehistory. This has some interesting geological formations as well, such as a ridge of bright maroon-coloured rock, and great piles of boulders riddled with holes. 

Wilpattu is a land of vividly coloured sands. We had seen tracts of chalk-white sand darkening to mellow gold; and sands of dull ochre, pale yellow and brown – and now we were in the presence of a great dune of brilliant copper-red sand – the dune of Tambapanni, after which Sri Lanka was historically named – situated just inland from the Kudrimalai cliff. 

We climbed the dune, and drank in the view. To the west was the Indian Ocean, gently rippling in the white-hot sun; on the opposite side was the Wilpattu jungle, a vast green expanse. We would have stayed longer, but the scorching sun forced us back into the confines of the safari jeep.

The next stop was the Kudrimalai beach. Here we waded in the cool, gentle waters of the sea and simply relaxed. The sands here were multi-coloured: red, black and golden-yellow – the pulsing waves pushed and arranged the sands into beautiful, spontaneous patterns. 

We left the beach and, as dusk fell, we drove on towards the bungalow, encountering elephants en route, but they were away on the far side of a vast villu. 

Mugger Crocodile (Crocodylus palustris)

We also saw the beautiful, uncommon Chestnut-headed Bee-eater (Merops leschenaulti), the migrants Brown Shrike (Lanius cristatus), Indian Pitta (Pitta brachyura) and many more. Turning a sharp corner in the forest, we startled a Sambhur (Cervus unicolor), which promptly turned tail and crashed into the woods.

***

The final day came – and, waking up, we found the land wreathed in thick mist. We encountered the usual wildlife – Spotted Deer, Wild Boars, Junglefowl and other common birds…and, amazingly, three Barking Deer, one after the other, each on the forest fringe near the side of the road.

The treat of the morning was yet another leopard. This was a young one, probably a sub-adult, just metres away from us. However, it retreated into a thicket, having been unnerved by our prescence. 

We drove on towards the entrance of the park, encountering Sri Lanka Grey Hornbills (Ocyceros gingalensis), bee-eaters, Painted Storks, Grey-headed Fish Eagle (Ichthyophaga ichthyaetus), Tricoloured Munia (Lonchura malacca), Orange-breasted Green Pigeon (Treron bicincta), the endemic Sri Lanka Green Pigeon (Treron pompadora) – and, at last, we encountered a male Indian Peafowl (Pavo cristatus) willing to let us photograph him.

And finally, leaving the park, just as we did sharp at 8.48 am, was like parting from a friend. At least, it was so for me. 

Sadini Upeka