The Great Rhino Hunt That Found an Ox

 

September evenings in Manas National Park are often shrouded in mist and drenched by monsoon rains. On one such evening, the Basbari Range and nearby villages were inundated, turning the crop fields into makeshift ponds. Villagers, undeterred by the weather, were busy fishing in the swollen streams and rivers. Amid this watery chaos, a curious report arrived. Puran, an employee at the (then) Jungle Travel Resort in Basbari, informed our field assistant, Bipul Nath, of a stray rhino spotted near Mayaongpara Colony, about 5–6 kilometers from the park. There was no record of any rhino straying that day, but Puran’s unwavering confidence sowed a seed of urgency. After all, stray rhinos are no laughing matter, especially in areas teeming with villagers.

Taking no chances, I quickly mobilized a 15-member monitoring team led by Bipul and dispatched them to the supposed rhino straying site. It was already dark by the time the team reached Mayaongpara Colony. The rain continued to pour relentlessly, soaking everything and everyone. Villagers had gathered in the inundated crop fields, their faces painted with a mix of curiosity and concern.

The team began their search, accompanied by enthusiastic villagers. Tracking wildlife on a stormy night is no easy feat, but the monitoring team was resolute. Guided by vague descriptions and unconfirmed sightings, they combed through the area, scanning every shadow and every rustle of the underbrush.

After two hours of sloshing through mud and water, the team’s efforts bore fruit—or so they thought. Amid the swaying bamboo groves, a dark, looming figure emerged. Hearts raced. Was this the stray rhino causing all the commotion? Torches beamed toward the figure, revealing a massive, motionless creature standing under the bamboo.

The suspense broke as laughter erupted among the team members. The supposed rhino was none other than a large, black ox, likely seeking refuge from the rain. In the dim light of dusk and the chaos of the rainstorm, the ox had undoubtedly been mistaken for a rhino by some overeager villager.

To confirm that all rhinos were safe, the team contacted the Basbari Range office. The headquarters reported no missing rhinos. It was official: the Great Rhino Hunt of Mayaongpara Colony was a false alarm, albeit a memorable one.

The team returned to Basbari, drenched but amused. The tale of the “rhino” that turned out to be an ox quickly spread, earning chuckles from everyone who heard it. It became a lighthearted reminder of the challenges and unpredictability of wildlife monitoring.

In the world of conservation, even the most serious endeavors have their moments of humor. That evening in Manas, amidst the pouring rain and inundated fields, the monitoring team added a new chapter to their adventures — a story about the time they went looking for a rhino and found an ox instead.