Golden Jackal: Resourceful Canids in Tezu Botanical Garden

Tezu in eastern Arunachal Pradesh is a sizeable town on the banks of the Lohit river, with a population of over 20,000. It is well-connected by roads and even boasts an airport. In August 2018, my colleagues and I were staying at the forest rest house inside the Tezu Botanical Garden, a kilometre away from the town centre, for research work. The 23-hectare botanical garden hosts a collection of regional native flora, its paths lined by Indian mast (Polyalthia longifolia) and ironwood trees (Mesua ferrea). The garden also has Indian rubber figs (Ficus elastica), and species like Neolamarckia cadamba, Dillenia indica, Bombax ceiba, Ficus racemosa, Elaeocarpus, and Garcinia. The branches of these grand trees with their towering canopies were covered with dense clumps of epiphytes, matted with moss. Woody vines twisted around their trunks. It appeared like a neat chunk of tropical jungle. The undergrowth, however, was overrun by bracken and invasive Eupatorium. Despite there being a big entrance gate, the boundary wall of the garden had gaps big enough for people to pass through and enter. 

During the day the place was abuzz with activity. Sodden paths hosted everyone from keen walkers and cyclists to jilted lovers and the odd stray dog. Native fauna found refuge in the garden. During morning walks, it’s hard not to miss the raucous calls of hill mynas or the constant droning of the blue-throated barbet, accompanied by the chattering of black bulbuls and pied starlings. Add a lonesome common hawk cuckoo’s call to the melee, while Pallas’s squirrels dash across the branches in the canopy. The garden is also home to myriad beetles and butterflies and we found the hollow exoskeletons of dead insects that probably got trapped in the rest house and couldn’t escape. However, the denizens of the night were completely different, and we were about to be surprised by the presence of one kind.

On our first day, we stayed out after work, had an early supper and were headed back. As our jeep neared the entrance, I saw rain lingering on the leaves, making them glisten against the vehicle’s headlights. When we trundled closer to the rest house, which was at one end of the botanical garden, a small brownish dog-shaped creature with a narrow muzzle, stout tail, and closely set blinker-like eyes crossed our path and disappeared into the undergrowth. “Jackal! Jackal!” exclaimed my colleague who was driving. Thrilled, we were eager to capture it on camera. We raced to the rest house’s first-floor balcony, turning on the large fluorescent lamp atop the building, its beam wide enough to light a short stretch of the driveway. It was almost an hour of waiting before one jackal emerged from the undergrowth and rested on the path for a while. We squinted in the dim light and hoped they would come closer toward the light. The skittish creatures skirted the edge of the beam and disappeared.

 

The hope of spotting jackals in the garden drew us to the balcony every evening. As twilight drew to a close on the third day, the jackals reappeared. This time the pair was accompanied by a smaller individual, probably a pup. It was surprising to see them play-fighting and chasing each other in a botanical garden next to a busy highway, and just a kilometre from the town centre. They lay sprawled on the very path that joggers and cyclists tread just a few hours before. Why were the jackals living this close to human habitation, I wondered.

Great adaptability

Golden jackals (Canis aureus) are habitat generalists, i.e., they are able to live in a wide range of habitats—including marshes, mangroves, and dry scrub, and from forests to agricultural and semi-urban habitats. Due to this adaptability, it is probably one of the most widespread canids whose native range extends from Vietnam in Southeast Asia to the Czech Republic in Central Europe. These omnivores consume both plant and animal matter and are capable of hunting everything from blackbucks to rodents and grasshoppers. As opportunists, they take advantage of resources readily available in the environment, like carrion, garbage piles, and abattoir waste. Hence, they are occasional scavengers (but hunt and eat plant matter as well) and are known to visit the outskirts of villages and towns to rummage on these human-generated resources. A recent study on the India-wide distribution of wild canids finds the golden jackal’s distribution to be clustered around large settlements with high densities of humans. The jackals of Tezu Botanical Garden avoid contact with people by being nocturnal. Because of these traits, traditional folklore paints them as intelligent and wily creatures.

Life near humans

Despite their resourcefulness and secrecy, living in proximity to humans poses several risks to jackals. Interactions with free-ranging stray dogs, whom they encounter while utilising the same resources at dump yards on the outskirts of urban centres, can have a negative impact on golden jackals. Though the population of golden jackals is increasing globally, the transmission of diseases like canine distemper and rabies from free-ranging dogs poses a threat at the regional level. The possibility of hybridisation (interbreeding) between jackals and dogs is also a threat locally. Fuelled by religious beliefs and superstition, jackals are poached for the “siyar singhi” or jackal “horn”, which is not a true horn but a small skull protrusion. Jackals also risk being termed and treated as pests or vermin, as is the case in rural Bangladesh, where they are perceived as crop and livestock pests.

On the contrary, jackals may be providing important ecosystem services which are undervalued. They keep a check on populations of rodents and large insect pests, and provide a much-needed service to farmers in crop pest management, thereby increasing agricultural output. Jackals also serve as cleaners, by feeding at dump sites and clearing cattle carcasses and food waste. These would otherwise accumulate and contaminate groundwater and pose serious health risks. A study in Europe indicates that jackals remove over 13,000 tonnes of organic waste across human-dominated landscapes, saving close to half a million dollars in waste management. Jackals of the town of Tezu may be performing a similar waste disposal service. Outside the boundary of the botanical garden is a waste dump which could be providing resources for the growing family of jackals.

That night, we saw seven jackal individuals, likely consisting of a dominant pair and five juveniles. After catching a short glimpse of them we didn’t see them again. A solitary yelp in the distance got them howling in chorus. It may have been a warning call about a threat or a welcome call for other jackals, I could not say. For me, however, it was a reminder that the night belonged to the jackals, and it was nothing short of magical. As the jackal a capella continued, it was interrupted by dogs barking in the neighbourhood nearby. Then suddenly, the night was shrouded in silence.

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