A young warden takes on the animal smuggling syndicates of Madras

Shobha Warrier in Madras

A man walking along a pavement in Madras, carrying an innocuous-looking basket on his head sees a policeman coming towards him.

The next instant, he drops the basket and runs for dear life.

The policeman grabs the basket, expecting at the least to find it full of illicit booze, or gold, or drugs - and is startled to find it full of live tortoises.

His next dilemma was knowing what to do with the animals he had so fortuitously chanced upon. The news of the find finally got to Mita Bannerji, the young, idealistic warden of Guindy National Park. She rushed to the spot and discovered that the basket was full of the prized 'star tortoises', each worth, at a conservative estimate, Singapore $200 each.

The smuggling of star tortoises and such other contraband wildlife has been going on, undetected and unchecked, for years now - at least, that is the view of the experts. It was in late 1996 that the possibility hit the headlines, when a wriggling bag at Madras airport was opened to reveal a consignment full of the precious tortoises, and since then Bannerji has been discovering such contraband in hotel rooms, residences, airports, bus and train terminals...

She estimates that in a year, her department recovers at least 2,000 star tortoises, besides snakes and suchlike.

The stars are mostly trapped in the forests of Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka, and sent to Singapore as 'onions', in crates, cartons and bags. Madras airports and seaports are the gateways through which India's priceless wildlife is transported to Singapore, and from there to other destinations worldwide.

"When I joined this office in June 1996, I never imagined that I would have to handle so many cases of star tortoises alone," says Bannerji. "Almost every month, we have a haul. The usual modus operandi followed by the smugglers is to locate some passenger with minimal luggage, and request him or her to carry a bag for them, telling them that in Singapore, someone would come to the airport to pick it up - and of course, the person carrying the bag is compensated for his trouble.

"Because of this system, even when we do find a consignment, it is difficult to catch the real people responsible. The carrier rarely can identify who asked him to carry the bag," explains Bannerji.

On one occasion, though, Bannerji and her crew succeeded in tracking down the culprits. First, the consignment was spotted, and the carrier managed to point out the person concerned. From that point, Bannerji's men shadowed him wherever he went, day in and out. The vigil put such pressure on him that he, one day, just walked into her office and surrendered. But, Bannerji adds as she recounts the tale, for every one they catch, there are dozens who go untraced, and unpunished.

In case you were wondering, star tortoises are not the only form of contraband Bannerji and her team have to combat. One time, she got the news that a big consignment was being readied, at the home of a social worker, bound for Malaysia. The resultant raid netted bags full of the skins of jackals, hedgehogs, crocodiles, monitor lizards, spotted deer and snakes. The skins were hidden under a layer of clothes and jewels, to make it look like ordinary domestic baggage.

Indians living in Malaysia have this belief that it is auspicious to see the head of a jackal first thing in the morning - and this superstition in turn fuels a very lucrative racket in smuggled jackal heads. Incidentally, jackals have long since been declared an endangered species in India.

The racket cuts across all social barriers - for instance, the social worker involved in the incident, who holds a Malaysia passport, had with him certificates from many influential personalities, including well known politicians.

When gold and other valuables are seized, they at the least go to swell the national coffers. In the case of the contraband Bannerji lays her hands on, however, the tragedy is that they are finally consigned to a small room in the Guindy Park, where insects eat into the skins and the whole consignments go to waste. The live tortoises, meanwhile, are let out in enclosures within the park.

"There is a lot of money involved in this racket, which is why it is so difficult to stop," says Bannerji, recalling how on one occasion, she fined an ordinary middle class couple Rs 100,000 when she caught them trying to smuggle star tortoises to Singapore, and was surprised when they raised that amount in a day. "It shows you how much money there is in this thing, and that there are people out there ready to bail their agents out, so what can we do?"

So what measures does Bannerji contemplate to check, if not eradicate, the menace?

"We can check this kind of smuggling by raiding the entry and exit points, and for that we need better facilities. The poor people, who do the actual hunting, will stop once they realise they cannot make money out of it -- so our priority should be to check the smuggling, then the killing will stop on its own."

Photographs: Praveen Photos