Jim Corbett tiger attack: Daily wagers split-second courage saves colleague in dramatic rescue

The tiger remained in the area for three to four days, but no further incident was reported. Pic: iStock

"Galat jagah pakad liya chacha," 28-year-old Pitambar told his colleague moments after a tiger pinned him to the ground deep inside Jim Corbett wildlife sanctuary, words that capture the terror of an encounter he survived.

Pitambar, a daily wager, was part of a four-member team on a regular patrol duty on July 20. While two of them were walking a little ahead, Ramnath, somewhere in between, suddenly realised Pitambar was not here.

As he turned around, Ramnath saw the big cat sitting on top of Pitambar.

With little time to react, he did something few would dare to attempt: he struck the tiger with the wooden stick in his hand, thrice.

The tiger, not expecting anything like this, released Pitambar and moved into the bushes.

"Give me your hand," he told Pitambar, helping him get back on his feet and away from the spot. All Pitambar could mutter at that moment to Ramnath, also a daily wager, was that the tiger had bitten him on his neck.

The bite was not deep, and Pitambar survived due to timely help. He suffered bite injuries and was given first aid by the forest staff before being taken to Ramnagar and then to Kashipur for treatment.

Not all forest guards are as lucky as Pitambar.

Dharampal Negi, a forester working for 37 years, said that when they go out patrolling, everyone tells themselves that four are going inside but only three might return.

Most of the dead get forgotten easily, and in some cases their bodies have also not been recovered.

When the country's oldest national park decided to erect a memorial in the name of the forest guards who died in animal attacks, it took them 18 months to compile a list of 33 people.

Now, no place is left on the plaque for another name and the staff at a museum at the Dhangarhi gate of the forest wish that another or a bigger plaque is never required.

Around 700 forest guards, most of them daily wagers, patrol the park, spread across nearly 1,300 square kilometers including over 500 sq km of core area, in groups of four and in shifts. The patrol from posts built at different places is on foot and only one of them carries a gun. Others have wooden sticks only.

Residents of the town feel that they and hundreds of tourists who come here every day for safari owe it to the forest guards for them to move around safely.

Miteshwar Anand, Assistant Commissioner (GST), said the forest guards put their lives at risk not just to thwart poachers and tree fellers; they also ensure animals are safe.

Their work also requires them to recognise signs of wildlife distress. If an elephant is limping or a tiger appears injured, they inform veterinary and rescue teams, he added.

The general manager of a top resort on the outskirts of the reserve said that a tiger would come once in a while to the human habitation, but the guards ensure that the humans are safe.

"The fact is that we have come into their territory; they have not come into ours," he said.

Negi, who was also invited to speak at the country's first-ever literature festival in a national park held here earlier this month, said what stood out was not just the danger of the encounter, but Ramnath's presence of mind in those few seconds.

Ramnath and Pitambar share a bond that goes beyond the demands of their work in the forest. Pitambar calls Ramnath uncle and Ramnath treats him like a son.

The incident took place around 300- 400 metres from a forest outpost located nearly 18 km inside the forest.

"There was no time to call for help or assess the situation. Ramnath acted with the only weapon immediately available to him- the stick in his hand," Negi, a forester by designation, said.

Ramnath's decision to strike the tiger may have been crucial to the rescue, but had he screamed or shouted, the tiger could have turned towards him.

After Pitambar was rescued, the tiger continued to roar and move around the area, appearing agitated. More staff members were sent in to ensure safety, and bushes along the route were cleared. Camera traps were installed to monitor the animal's movements later, as he had apparently tasted human blood.

The tiger remained in the area for three to four days, but no further incident was reported. The authorities finally declared the tiger was not yet a man-eater.

For the forest staff, the episode was also a reminder of the risks involved in a job that requires them to enter the habitat of wild animals on foot, often far from immediate medical assistance.

"The nearest hospital in Ramnagar is around 18 km away, while patients requiring further treatment are often referred to Kashipur or Haldwani," Negi said.

For an injured worker, reaching medical care can take time. In Pitambar's case, he first had to be brought on foot to the outpost, from where a vehicle was arranged to take him for treatment. The process took around 30- 40 minutes, despite staff members rushing to help him.

Corbett has hundreds of employees working across different categories, including forest guards, foresters, rangers and daily-wage workers. Their duties extend beyond monitoring wildlife to preventing poaching, detecting unauthorised entry, tracking animal movements and responding to forest fires.

"The main objective of patrolling is to prevent poaching," Negi said, explaining that even a fresh set of footprints in soft forest soil can alert them to the presence of an intruder.

The dangers are not limited to tiger encounters. Forest staff also face venomous snakes and rapidly spreading fires.

"After spending eight hours working in the forest, we get exhausted and lie down wherever we can. We cannot always be alert every moment. In many ways, we rely on God's protection," Negi said.