RUPUNUNI, GUYANA — Crime investigators search for clues to unravel the mystery of who, what, when, where and why. Specially trained forces collect footprints, fingerprints, any traces that could lead to the truth.
Lucky for us, jaguars are not the best at covering up their traces when committing a crime …
The bulky, muscular jaws of jaguars pierce through skulls as if they were biting through a piece of cake. Jaguars tend to kill their victims by such crushing bites, rather than by suffocation as seen in other large cats. Once killed, the prey may be dragged to a more preferable site for consumption, where the jaguar will munch away. Any remains are often visited again over the next few nights.
Jaguars with a taste for beef, rather than wild meat, are cursed by this routine behavior. Their feeding on beef, or sheep, pork, horse or even dogs could be an opportunistic splurge, sheer indulgence, or necessity due to injury. Whatever the reason, owners of livestock are not too appreciative of a jaguar’s sensitive palate. Even the most conservation oriented rancher can only sustain so many losses. The jaguar, upon return to last night’s livestock kill may encounter the rancher and his gun (or bow and arrow) up in the tree right by what should have been another delicious meal. Now it is the jaguar who gets killed, or injured. Injured jaguars are bad news for ranchers, as they are very likely to become dependent on easy prey, like livestock. Killed jaguars, on the other hand, open up territories for new ones to come in, new ones that could start the same behavior all over again. Needless to say such encounters with livestock owners has done little good for the population, or the image of the jaguar.
Cattle ranching has been part of Rupununi culture for over a century. Hundreds, or thousands of square kilometers form grazing lands for the various ranches, like Karanambu. Villagers too may own livestock, albeit at a smaller scale. Allowed the freedom to forage wherever, cows wander the property in search of the hard to find nutritious sprouts, often created artificially by burning the savanna in an attempt to keep cattle close to the ranch station. Nevertheless, cattle roams free, in jaguar territory.
Low nutrient forage in the Rupununi savannas leads to a roam-free ranching style, where herds of cows, semi-wild, spread out onto the land and jaguars gain free access.
Since my arrival in the Rupununi, I have heard several stories of vaqueros or even youngsters waiting for jaguars that had killed horses or cows. Some still have the scars to illustrate their not so lucky encounter … Interestingly, the people that have suffered the most losses from jaguars, also seem to be the ones with the greatest passion to know, to understand and to conserve this magnificent predator.
Late one afternoon the news reached that one of Karanambu’s horses had been killed just a few miles away from the compound. We picked up a spare camera trap and rushed to the site. Passing by the outstation, a vaquero joined us to show where he had found the horse. Long before reaching, hundreds of black shapes in the trees gave away the location of the meal — black vultures lurking near the kill. They guided us towards an oval patch of grass that had been padded down. From there, a newly trampled trail led straight to the nearby bush. Following the trail, we stumbled upon the horse’s leg.
The first piece of evidence: grass padded down. Here, the young horse spent the last moments of its life grazing peacefully, until canines pierced its skull.
After killing the horse, the jaguar dragged the body into the shade of the nearby forest, not at all concerned about the evidence left behind.
A whip cracked loudly right behind us. The sound of the vaquero’s whip had me jump; that should have frightened any creatures nearby. Carefully, we crept through the tangle of branches. Flies happily buzzed about, bathing themselves in the scrumptious stench that greeted us as we entered the shade inside the forest patch. The young horse, now literally just skin and bones, had last been seen alive the morning before. From the sight of the leftovers, the jaguar must have been one hungry fellow, or maybe the vultures had gorged themselves with the meat, or, maybe, this jaguar was not alone? We had been finding tracks of jaguars traveling together for a while now. Could this be a male with mate, a mother with cub? Was this one of Karanambu’s healthy, stealthy jaguars, or had an old or injured individual moved into the area? With no meat left, would the jaguar(s) even come back?
Just a day earlier, the horse had been seen alive and well. Now, only skin and bones remained.
The next morning the carcass was gone.
He (or she) must have returned to the crime scene, but who was he (she)? Would the camera trap’s memory card reveal the face of the horse’s assassin? Was this jaguar listed in the Karanambu database?
With the excitement of a first-time crime investigator, any thoughts of exploring the rest of the area for clues completely slipped my mind. Soaked and covered in dirt from rainy season swamps, I plugged in the memory card filled with endless pictures of … vultures.
Hundreds of black vultures had given away the location of the carcass. After our departure right before dusk, they quickly returned to their stolen dinner. A king vulture gladly joined in on the feast.
And then …
Caught in action – The jaguar came in from the side entrance and dragged out the carcass. This was a familiar face.
Identified! - Running the coat pattern against the database, our killer was identified as Crane, a stout, healthy looking male that had been roaming Karanambu land for months.
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