The next day, after an early breakfast of tropical fruit, we
headed to the nearby Analamazaotra National Park (an area of protected forest
that makes up part of the Andasibe-Mantadia National Park) to join our guide in
search of the indris once more.
To our dismay, it was raining very heavily (well, it is a
rainforest after all). We knew this would significantly hinder our chances of
seeing the indris, or indeed other wildlife, as they would likely be hiding
from the downpour. We were waterproofed from head to toe, and I made sure to
protect my camera with a water-resistant cover.
It was very muddy underfoot, but the rainforest had not lost
its magic. We pushed our way through leaves, branches and vines, sometimes
traversing very steep areas of the terrain. It was often hard to keep our
balance with so much equipment to carry and the additional challenge of a
quagmire underfoot!
It was not long before we met some more lemurs leaping
gracefully through the trees. These proved to be a new species for us, the diademed
sifaka. There are several species of sifaka in Madagascar and they are much
more monkey-like in appearance than the ‘true lemurs’. They were magnificent; their gorgeous russet
orange coats gleamed, despite the inclement weather. We were treated to a
particularly wonderful view of a mother with a young baby clinging to her back
and we held our breath as she looked straight at us. It was a mesmerizing
moment that we felt very fortunate to witness. Just as quickly as they
appeared, the troupe (or conspiracy, which is the collective noun specifically used
for lemurs) leapt off silently through the trees and out of sight.
We also saw further interesting bird species such as the
blue vanga, with its dazzling azure plumage, the crested-drongo, with an
incredible ability to mimic other bird calls, and the Madagascar cuckooshrike,
among others.
A number of different frog species could be found hidden
amongst the foliage of various plants, particularly in the many Pandanus plants
whose leaves provide a pool of water for the frog.
After several hours of trekking or, more accurately,
slipping through the forest, we still had not seen or heard any sign of the
indris. I thought that perhaps we had already used up our luck and that
yesterday’s encounter would be our only experience of these mystical creatures.
There certainly wasn’t a lot of wildlife about as more heavy showers came and
went.
Just when we had nearly given up hope, another local guide
appeared and informed us that he had spotted a family of indris. We were
delighted! Eagerly, we followed him through the undergrowth, wondering how on
Earth he could remember where he had seen the indris as, to us, all the forest
looked the same!
We crept as silently as we could into a clearing and there,
above us in the trees, were several indris. Despite the weather, these indris
were much more active than the one we had seen the day before. It was now
easier to appreciate their size and grace. Reaching a height of almost 4 feet
when their legs are outstretched, they are bigger than any other extant lemur.
They moved with ease from branch to branch and tree to tree, their incredibly
long arms swinging and grasping with perfect precision. Some individuals were
tenderly grooming one another, and it was lovely to see them displaying such
affection.
After watching them for a while and looking closely through
binoculars, we saw a tiny little black face with bright green eyes peeking out
of its mother’s fur. Here you can see this adorable youngster. Indris have one
baby every 2 or 3 years and they are usually born towards the beginning of the
dry season, in May or June. Again, the photo is not the best quality, due to
the challenging conditions.
And then it happened, the moment I had been hoping for. The
indris started calling. It was incredible to hear this so close. In his book,
Attenborough describes it as “a chorus of spine-chilling unearthly howls” but,
to me, it was a beautiful sound, reminding me of whale song.
We stayed with this family for a decent amount of time,
watching their behaviour. It was magical to be alone in the jungle with just
our guide and these gentle forest giants.
When the indris moved off to another part of the forest, we
continued our hike in search of other wildlife.
Before long, we were lucky enough to see a small group of
eastern lesser bamboo lemurs as they bounced speedily past us like little turbo
balls of fluff. They began to feed in a tree to our left and then took great
leaps to head deeper into the forest.
Thanks to the incredible skills of our guide, we were even
lucky enough to see three sleeping eastern woolly lemurs, a nocturnal species.
They were all cuddled up together in a tree and one opened its huge green,
glowing eyes to check us out. We would never have spotted this trio on our own,
as the conditions were so dark and rainy.
After several hours in the forest, we had a break for lunch
and returned to the reserve later in the evening in the hope of spotting some
nocturnal wildlife.
Night Walk
It was strange to experience the light fading so early in
August. By 5pm, it was pitch black; darkness the like of which one rarely sees
at home where artificial light is hard to escape. At 6pm, we met our guide and
explored another area of the reserve. The only light we had came from our head
torches, but we knew it was important to be careful not to shine them into the
eyes of any creatures. We saw all sorts of beautiful moths, frogs, insects,
geckos and spiders, but were struggling to find any nocturnal lemurs. We walked
for a very long time, occasionally hearing a high-pitched squeaking, which our
guide informed us was a mouse lemur. However, we found it very difficult to lay
eyes on one! Eventually, our guide, who had incredible eyesight, spotted an
eastern rufous mouse lemur and was able to point it out to us. It was even
smaller than I had imagined, and its eyes were shining bright red. With its little
ears that were rotating backwards and forwards checking for all the tiniest
sounds, I thought it was adorable. We didn’t stay there for long as we were
anxious not to disturb it, but we were lucky enough to have sightings of more
mouse lemurs before the night was over.
Unfortunately, like most lemur species, the majority of
mouse lemur species are endangered. They face numerous hazards, such as habitat
destruction, capture for the exotic pet trade and even hunting. Amazingly, only
one species of mouse lemur had been discovered at the time Attenborough
completed his Zoo Quest to Madagascar, yet now there are known to be more than
20.
Mitsinjo
The following day, we had another early start. We were keen
to get going as we knew this would be our last chance to spend time with the
indris and our last day with our excellent guide. This time we explored the Mitsinjo
Reserve.
Our hike through the forest was adventurous as always, it
being necessary to duck under, climb over or break through dense vegetation,
but for quite some time we saw nothing.
At long last, our guide whispered ‘babakoto’ and we looked
up to see a large group of indris right above us. I remembered that
Attenborough’s guide back in 1961 had said, “call to them with their voice and
often they will reply” and, sure enough, as our guide (who seemed capable of
mimicking every living thing in the forest) called up to them, they started to
sing. The sight of a whole family of indris, mouths open wide, singing at the
top of their lungs was magical and an experience I shall never forget. The
insides of their mouths were unexpectedly the brightest crimson and their sharp
tongues danced as they screamed.
After this sensational experience, our luck continued as we
spotted a huge Parsons chameleon, the brightest shade of jade green and about a
foot in length, and later a tree boa asleep in the branches above us.
Later, we visited the Analamazaotra Forest Station, where we
planted some native trees as part of an ongoing and vital project to remove the
invasive eucalyptus and reforest the area with native flora.
The River
That afternoon, we decided to explore the river by canoe. It
was quite hard work as we travelled against the current, but it was very peaceful,
with the movement of the water and birdsong being the only sounds. There were
several orb weaver spiders in huge webs suspended across the whole width of the
river. Unfortunately for me, I first became aware of them when my husband
shouted ‘duck’ and, being on a river, I searched for some sort of water bird,
only to be struck in the face by a sticky web.
However, I was soon distracted from my horror by a group of
brown lemurs feeding precariously on high branches hanging over the river,
making their comical snorting sounds. Pieces of fruit fell into the water as we
canoed under the branches.
The Village
That evening, we explored the village of Andasibe, visiting
vibrant market stalls, trying unusual foods, and meeting the friendly locals. I
was constantly surprised by how happy and welcoming the people were despite the
fact that they have so little. Although the streets were very narrow they were
still used by large vehicles that polluted the raw meat hanging from stalls as
they drove past.
We tried several foods which were new to us, including
cassava, a potato-like root vegetable, as well as guanabana and sweetsop,
delicious tropical fruits.
As we headed back to our accommodation, we heard some indris
singing in the distance as the sinking sun cast a beautiful glow over the
forest.
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