Making the world safe for big cats
Explorer Alan Rabinowitz creates havens for tigers, jaguars, and leopards.
By Tibor Krausz | Correspondent of The Christian Science Monitorfrom the May 23, 2007 edition

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BANGKOK, THAILAND - Alan Rabinowitz was on a routine mission deep inside a Burmese jungle when news reached him about the attack. In a nearby camp of rattan gatherers a juvenile elephant had just been set upon by a tiger. The intrepid wildlife expert from New York decided to investigate.
Sure enough, the still-jittery elephant calf had rake-style claw marks on its flank. Mr. Rabinowitz peeled off from his obligatory government escort to track the attacker. Near a bank of thick undergrowth, he had "a gut feeling," he says. "I was looking at the jungle and sensed a presence in there watching me. I don't think it was intuition; it was knowing my animal so well."
He threw a rock into the tall grass. Suddenly there was a mighty rustle, followed by the receding sound of a large animal sprinting through the forest. Closer inspection revealed the fresh pug marks (paw prints) of a tiger having lain in wait.
Rabinowitz was relieved – but not for the reason you or I would have been: He was glad the tiger was there. "When we start bringing the number of tigers up," he says, "they're bound to have run-ins with people." And that's great, he adds, because friskier tigers may testify to a beleaguered species on the rebound – even if that causes problems for villagers in the area.
"I didn't go to Myanmar [Burma] to help people," says Rabinowitz, director of science and exploration for the Wildlife Conservation Society based at the Bronx Zoo who recently passed through Bangkok, after spending two months in Myanmar. "I went there to save tigers."
And save them he does. Ironically, though, that invariably entails helping people. Take Ah Puh, a Lisu hunter expert at trapping tigers in remote northern jungles of Burma. The area is populated by impoverished ethnic minorities who often exchange exotic animal parts with Chinese traders for their most prized commodity: salt.
As recently as the 1980s, dozens of tigers were poached every year in Burma's forests; today, only around 80 remain, Rabinowitz says. They, too, are doomed, he adds, unless locals like Ah Puh endorse his message of wildlife conservation.
So, hiking into backwoods hamlets, he told tribesmen (through interpreters) about the long-term ecological benefits of livestock husbandry over traditional ways of hunting. He then gave them fast-breeding piglets.



