Do not touch tigers! Saw.

If you look at the map Bangladesh, the country will seem a huge river delta with numerous islands. In the northwest of Dhaka – the place of merger of two great rivers – Ganges and Brahmaputra. (True, they are called them differently: Padma and Dzhamun.) Breaking on numerous sleeves, twists and ducts, they carry their waters in the Bengal Bay, washing the "Bengalz Earth" – Bangladesh – in the south.

The population of the country exceeds 120 million people; Each block of land is populated and diligently processed. Only in the south-east of the country, where Bangladesh borders with Burma, there is a small reservation inhabited by mountain tribes. For wildlife here is too closely and noisy, but nature itself took care that our smaller brothers have found a quiet and safe corner.

We are talking about Sundar National Park. It was formed in 1966, and its territory was abused in Delta Ganges, near the Indian border. 3600 square kilometers – in Bangladesh, 2400 – in India. Low Evened lands covered by the thickets of the "Sundari" tree – from him and the name of the reserve, – in the period of rains often floods a big water, and settle here risky. Earth reserve in the country is exhausted. There are numerous projects for the development of unsuitable land and family information. It was also proposed to increase the land on the wetrated coast of Sundarbana, but this guy, fortunately for nature, is unreal.

Last village north of Sundarbana – a small town of Mongkla, standing at the venue of the two river-duct – Mongkles and Rupses. Five kilometers downstream of the Novo-Foured River Busur – And you get into a fairy tale. But soon the fairy tale affects, but not in Bangladesh – here such things are not done quickly. Path to Sundarban Log and folded.

Of course, being in the capital Dakka, you can visit Pardjatan – the state office on tourism, where an individual tour will arrange a rich client: with a plane to the regional jessor, a limousine to the nearby district center Khulyreh and a high-speed boat from Mongkles. But it stands insane money. Some cheaper will cost specialtour from Khulyns. But mediators dealers and here will not be mad. The modest wanderer, not burdened with superfluous means, is one thing: getting to the cross-country to Mongkles and enter direct negotiations with the owners of the Plavs. Russians have long been walked by their own way. Old Dakka stands on the left bank of Buriganga ("Starny Gang"), and any Rickshaw delivers guests to the berth of Sadarghat, from where passenger ships are departed down the river. But now something unimaginable is happening here: not hundreds, and tens of thousands of passengers with bags and baulos storm the passages leading to the pier. River River, with difficulty in a minute for a guest, explains: the end of the post-ramadan post is approaching, and three days of Muslims will celebrate Hidal Fitr (in our opinion: Kurban-Bayram). Many people go back on holidays at home, and a fresh passenger to get to the steamer almost impossible – tickets have long been replenished. And four days later, when the reverse stream goes, go – without problems. So, you need to throw anchor in Dhaka. Here too have something to see.

… a holiday behind, and in the morning I am going for a ticket to the rockety-company river office that in the city center. Elderly head writes a letter of recommendatory letter to his selection on Sadarghat: "Sell to sell 1 (in words: One) ticket to Khulyns. »Second class tickets and decks are open; There is a place in the cabin of the 1st grade. The cost of the ticket is huge on the ideas of local residents: whole 20 dollars per day! The ship stands here, under couples: This is an old wheel steamer of the colonial building. I pay for a ticket without thinking: After all, stepped on board, I will move to the attachment back, and in just 20 "green". If such a kolester rose to the eternal parking somewhere in the lower reaches of Mississippi, then the inhabitants of the new Orleans would have to lay out a comparable amount only for his inspection.

By five pm, I move on board the steamer. At the pier dozen three ships, but they are all new buildings. And our two-layer stands out in this background with its old fashion. The lower deck is already clogged with passengers: this is a ruralist with her unaccompan. Each rides with its canthaw or bamboo mat. On the iron deck she will come for the mattress. The watch sailor is on duty at the stairs leading to the upper deck, separating clean from unclean. There is no fuss at the top, and the fight, meeting the guest, takes it to the cabin. From his hands I turn under the guardianship of the elderly steward with a beard of the Dutch Skiper. He is closed in a red coat with Galuna, his pants are decorated with red general lamps. Sprochochka he is small, but holds majestically as the retired Kagybane-Swiss at the door of "Metropol".

At 6 pm, the boats one by one are separated from Hhata (pier), and our chariot is not in a hurry, passing them forward. After all, the steamer must turn around, and then this dinosaur flies the fairway. The last beep, and begins the turmoil: Trades trays run on the trap ashore, the blades of the wheels are laid water. We clic up a river caravan going down to Burigangu.

Only only the locker concerns the pier with his wing, enclosing the wheel, how a flock of trains rushes on the deck. And on the other hand, we are taken to the board of the boatmen, whose chelny will be loaded to the top coconuts. On the banks of Rickshaws are fighting for passengers who have come down from the ladder, for those who are further on land. And across the river in long settlements, hidden by smoothies, customers will take boats with bamboo canopies. They are also not merry. All that can swim, is swimming here. The buffalo, who defeated his herd, climb overcomes wide Madhimati, (and we are already following this river). Fishermen pull the catch, leaving for us a narrow passage in the fairway.

Passengers on board are less and less. In the evening, at sunset, the Mongkla’s pier. On the raid – a few ocean dry cargoes, lipped by local barges. To Sundarbana and the Bengal bay from here hand to file, but without paper from the leshoza there is nothing to do here. A policeman, a neighbor of Kayuta advised to get it in Khulna, and the policeman is always right. Three more hours taking finite khules. The siege of Rickshaw withstanding with honor and, becoming the prey of the most prominent, food to the hotel for the night.

Leskhoza office – a ten minute walk from the hotel. It seems that I found himself in the institution "Horn and hooves". All rustle paper, breathe on print. The boss responsible for the Sunlarban. gives me a listware and continues paper games. Having studied her, inflates his cheeks and, it is important nodded, transfers to his will, ascertaining the next table. He starts the weight at first: reads paper in warehouses, shell her lips. It takes a lot of time. But I am calm, all day in stock and nothing to hurry anywhere. From a lobaste paper goes to his assistant. Here, it seems, there will be a long story: pompering when reading mechanizes ears. Finally, the eared nodded: "I do not mind," and it seems, paper should go on ascending. But the mind is not understood by the office – the petition went somewhere in the side, where it is already laid in some kind of folder. Cracks of writing machines are heard; By phone, someone calls my name – coordinate with the ones. It is understandable, because Sundarban is a border area, and the special services should be aware.

An hour later, it’s timidly informed at the boss:
– Big problems?

He, as if waking up, breaks away from the papers, looks surprised at the petitioner and shouts something to the crowd of state budgets, asked for a leshozovskaya trough.
– Five more minutes – I hear in response, and meanwhile the search for the lost folder with my past begins.

This means: "The question is studied". Finally, the desired document with permission is given to the commander under receipt in three copies; The same paper itself – in the 4th. This is a big luck. Strong paper will open the gate of Sundarbana.

Having gone to the street. Does not pass two minutes, like belalik. In the stroller – a man in civilian clothes, with a folder in his hands. He is clearly not Lespromkhozovsky. He calls my name and asks if I just had in the office. Yes, you see, the case is delivered clearly. So, in Leschoz, time was dragged for the form so that the operative can get to the office and come to contact.

However, nothing is noted for me, and I am calm. We saw such, with crusts! By the way, it is necessary that he presented them.

Widely smiling, "Committer" stretches the business card on which it is: "Mr. Halilur Rakhman. Tours in Sundarban ». Below – addresses and phones in Dhaka, Khulna and Mongkle. Pleasant mistake. But Mr. Rachman and in Leschoz, everything fell, and his people appeared on the pier, it seems to be placed. I ask about the cost of the tour. It is reasonable if you divide her person for 5-6 participants of the trip. For one – the price biting. We decide. If a few more people appear – lovers of tigers in plans, then Rakhman people will find me in Mongkle. If not – I will act independently.

From Khural to Mongkles on the highway 40 kilometers and two ferry crossings. I go out of the bus and sit in a boat, naked by local people. Five minutes later we are on the opposite shore, in Mongkle. Pier swing small boats. From one of them I was already departed: they are arms and shout: "Sundarban!»This course of thought I like, and I am waiting for the boy from the boat to shore. Word for the word, and it turns out that it works not on Rakhman, but from myself. Continuing the conversation, I am going to the dispatch port – maybe threw to tigers on a service boat? And Rashid, the guy from the boat, trying to lead the client to the side – he does not need competition.

The head of the port is sedted behind the shabby table, and the crowd of curiously surrounds with MiG. With the go, it turns out that the boats do not have and need to hire a private ship. Caution is needed: "Dakate" shaggy are in floats – armed robbers. A shipowner is standing near; I ask him about the price. On the world, among his own, it will not be bored with it, and a pretty acceptable figure sounds. But still expensive. I take out Rahman’s business card and start: "But Mr. Rahman. "Having heard the name of the competitor, Rashid immediately reduces a quarter fee, and we beat by hand.

I carry things to the hotel "Singapore", surrounded by fruit rows. Here and papaya, and tangerines, and bananas, not to mention lemons. We must prepare for tomorrow’s trip. But first – and this is the main thing – to exchange leshozovskaya paper for skipping, for which I get a boat along the Pushur River to the first Forest Courton Dangmarari.

Like the McDonalds snack bars are similar to each other at any point of the globe, and the office in Dangmarari resembles the branch of "Rogs and Kopit". The same piles of papers on the tables, the same dyed bundles on the cabinets. True, the people here are smaller, but morals and gravity – not distinguish from Khulnevsky. Meet the same phrase: "People in Bangladesh poor, but good. "As before, paper start walking in a circle. True, there is a difference. Khulnev apparators defiled on the adopted in trousers, and here everyone is clothed in colorful dhyot. Finally, the circle closes. I put a signature under the obligation to fulfill all the reserves: crocodiles do not scare, monkeys do not drive, do not hunt tigers.

I make a fee – a few dollars in two days of stay in Sundarbane and I get another paper on your hands, this time already final, in two copies. This pass is the key to the reserve.

In the morning until dawn, quietly slip from Singapore and go to the pier. There I am waiting for yesterday’s Rashid with a boy, like subpask. We move to the boat with the calling name "Saddam". Not bag, the mechanic-subfolder launches the engine, and the "Saddam" is removed from the anchor to the flight – down the thug, to floating tigers. Duration of passing – low tide. Boat accompany the tumble dolphins.

Behind the feed – Zavadava Dangmarari, the latest residential buildings. The territory of the reserve begins; Only fishermen can be traded below – without the right to stay on land. Yes, and not especially here will be: the shores are covered with mantra and thickets of sunny, do not deepen in the forest. Some of the trunks of trees are marked with red stripes. This means that the service promotion begins here, laid in the jungle.

Rare Cordons are located where Pushur takes the side tributaries. Here is a detriment for crocodiles, and here is one of them: three-meter reptiles slowly floats past the boat, knocked down to the shore. Everyone has their own concerns: Lesniki is mounted with a nail, crocodile looks out for prey. I wonder what kind of relationships with Dolphins?

In Sundarbans, hunting is categorically prohibited, and animals are non-PUB. Where there is access to the river free from Mangroves and Sundari, certainly someone grates. Rashid grabs my hand and shows on the shallow. Ahead – mixed pasture: here and herd of spotted deer, and herd of boars. Liteity disappears in the thickets only at the very last moment when Saddam passes by, puzzling the forest inhabitants with their tauractelle.

Do not touch tigers! Saw.

For the hour of the day, we get to the southern edge of Sundarban and the nylkemal pier. The Bengal Bay begins here, and at the entrance to the mouth of the Pousora, on a small sushi patch, three services are. One of them is the port: from here, the boat with pilotes come out towards the ocean courts to ensure their wiring on the river farvatera to Mongkles. There is a pilot hotel, where tourists will read.

The engine "Saddam" is tired and he needs rest. Together with Rashid stroll in the pilot area. From bushes on us looks huge varan. Local holly-holled guys lazily pops into him with stones, and offended lizard leisurely crashes in thickets. We have a cruise in drives – while light and water level allows you to move. The smoke has been finished, and we will load on the "Saddam" again.

Here are the tone of spotted deer – that neither shallow, then a small brood. But the pastures of the water is small, so the deer goes in the set – then they are in the company Kabanov, then ahead of the monkeys. Especially a lot of deer in a grove, in the middle of which the observation deck. If you wish, you can spend upstairs for several hours, calmly watching the life of the jungle from the booths with windows. On the steep staircase tiger-ogudo here to get hard. The conversation about Tigers comes when returning to Nilkamal, where in the neighborhood with Lotsmana and Coast Guard, the office of the reserve. The local chief named Bul-Bul is habitually: "People in Bangladesh. ", And then asks about the size of my salary. We begin to compare our earnings, and Bul-Bul is in surprise: "Almost the same. »Meanwhile, it is felt. Noting my travel certificate, the chef passes the guest to the care of the forester. One of them – Selim – introduces me with the subsidiary.

In the hands of Selima Flashlight, and he directs a beam of light on the edge, where the already familiar to the face of deer graze. Animals come here every evening and the flashlights are calm. Selim the weekly tone reports that in the evenings Tigers Karaulyat deer in a large reservoir, on the shores of which we follow. Something believes with difficulty – after all, near accommodation, people.
– Right, – Selim nods, – Tigers attack people, but only from behind.

For verification I ask: a lot of victims? And Selim, almost with pride, is responsible that for the year the local tigers eat at least 70 fishermen, Balava (workers of the forestry) and Mauali (honey collectors). And it is only in Sundarban, not counting the territory where mountain tribes live. Everything is clear – Selim brews. Indeed, in the metropolitan press, which was able to browse in Dhaka, it was noted that in the reporting year, no more than 10 people were eaten by tigers. True, it is only officially eaten. Most of all losses among Honey Mauali collectors. Attacking the honey, the tiger hit the paw turns his neck, facilitating his further task. In the Indian part of Sundarbana, iron masks protecting and neck are issued to honey. In the local part of Sundarbana, by poverty, they work without. So tigers should be grateful to the Lespromkhozov leadership.

Herbivores survived the entire shore of the reservoir. Please Selim show traces tiger. Light flashlight shakes on the ground, but without success. Tiger – the beast of tricky, my guide is justified, after which I invites to the office to a cup of rice. It is quite by the way. After all, there is no Selpo in Nilkamala; for their all products – from the base.

Despite the late hour, Bul-Bul is all in reports, outfits and resolutions. Somewhere near the striped predator attached, and the office knows himself writes. Finally, completing a battle with a paper tiger, he joins meals. Some of the folders and its helpers. We drink sweet tea with milk. For tea I find out that for the year Sundarban visits about two thousand people. These are basically planners – Westerners: Europeans, Americans, less often – the Japanese. There were several Russians from the Embassian Nomenclature.

Suddenly tea drinking is interrupted by loud cries. Pasting our veranda in flippers "Forest Brothers" with lanterns. With a scream: "Tiger!»Selim breaks away from revenge and also rushes to the sidelice. In a single impulse, I climb from the mat, but the Bul-Bul is gently inhibits the guest and asks to slow down. After all, now he is responsible for me, and in addition, I also signed a paper in Dangmarari: "Do not chase tigers".

After a few minutes, the excited night watch returns to the office. Bul-Bul outlines the essence of the incident. Tiger just made out of the ambush to Lan, not far from the place where I and Selim and we recently admired graceful animals. The noise moved the predator, but still he managed to fie the prey in the thicket. Interfere in the internal fauna cases people are dangerous, and: no need. After all, in Sundarbans, "the" Jungle Law "officially reigns. If the forest guard holds the local Vityaz in a tiger skull, then people shine several years in prison. And a striped cat, with her cakes, beyond: she, as it were, "deputy inviolability".

Yes, it seems that it is not so much like a vanity of the tiger part. This is in the ancient Spanish cities, in expensive cafes, the random actors play the scenes of jealousy with a stabbing right among the tables, in front of rich tourists – so that it was about something to remember. And in the tiny nilkin, it is unlikely to become scattered in front of a lonely wanderer. So when Bul-Bul gives me Selima to the accomplices – to Hhata (pier), where it stands "Saddam", I do not refuse from his services.

And on "Saddam" I was beneficial. Rashid highlights me for the night part of the rag and the best shone-ku. Success mechanic is already having a shrimp. In the afternoon, he is a product and now he was silent and sneezes. And here still snoring rashid. Against this background, it is difficult to understand what comes from the shore. Whether it is wind, whether the roars from the wilds boars.

. At 6 am we go to in the opposite direction. We must straddle the tidal wave and to reach the large water Mongkly. On the horizon, in the light of dawn, one can see the ocean liners as the shiny sparklers. They are waiting for the daily postings Pusuru, and for them, with diesel engines in the thousands of horses, such trifles as the ebb tide, do not matter.

And we got into a jet approaching forest cordons, that is when the crocodiles. Right next to the gatehouse grazing herbivores. I reach for the binoculars. "Can it be true those quivering doe?"

Do not touch tigers! Saw.

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