THE published letter of Sahabat Alam Malaysia’s president, which voiced his horror over the release of stamps depicting several types of exotic food in our country, caught my attention recently. As a philatelist, I’ve been more than satisfied over the years with POS Malaysia's prolific number stamp releases but, this time, I had to agree with S.M. Mohamed Idris' concern that the prevailing theme might help promote the consumption of exotic food.
The First Day Cover pamphlet for this contentious issue details three different stamp designs together with that of a miniature sheet. The stamps, each with 60 sen face value, feature the Malayan porcupine, beronok sea cucumber and valanga grasshopper, while the miniature sheet depicts the horseshoe crab.
In his letter, Mohamed Idris expressed fear that the inevitable circulation of the stamps through their use as postage on letters and parcels would inadvertently endanger the featured animals by way of excessive hunting and destructive habitat encroachment by humans.
His concerns are not unfounded. Looking back in history, many local species like the Malayan tiger, clouded leopard and several rare deer species have already been hunted to near extinction for both food and sport.
HUNTING TAKES ROOT
Hunting animals for food began since time immemorial. Some of the earliest cave paintings show humans hunting mammoth in groups. Despite his inferior size and strength, early man used tactical know-how to subdue his prey either by using a combination of spears and large projectiles like rocks or alternatively running the animal off a cliff.
Like in other parts of the world, big-game hunting in Malaya rose sharply in popularity during the middle of the 19th century before peaking a little more than a century later. Considered a sport for the rich and famous, hunting was perused in many interesting ways.
The services of these skilled hunters in the past were sought to primarily collect specimens for museums and to remove rogue beasts plaguing villagers living in remote areas of the country. The huntsmen, however, viewed their passion as an exclusive form of recreation as well as a hobby reserved only for an elite few.
Towards the end of the 19th century, the authorities began showing a keen interest on keeping tabs on the rising popularity of hunting activities. The Game Department (now Department of Wildlife and National Parks Peninsular Malaysia (DWNP) or Perhilitan) was established with the primary intention of issuing licences for hunting and wildlife trade.
By 1896, the first law pertaining to wildlife was enacted and just six years later, the first wildlife reserve, Chior Wildlife Reserve near Sungai Siput, was already up and running. Despite the growing awareness for wildlife legislation among the general public, the Game Department administration remained fragmented with lack of coordination between those found in each state.
BETTER COORDINATION
In an effort to remedy this glaring weakness, efforts to create a central agency to coordinate wildlife and habitat conservation activities was initiated in 1930 with the appointment of Theodore Rathbone Hubback, the former Pahang Game Warden as the first Wildlife Commission Chief of Malaya.
Hubback, a former big game hunter and an accomplished expert on the Malayan gaur or seladang, was valued for his in-depth knowledge of Malayan wildlife and thus considered suitable for the job. He didn’t disappoint, for within two short years of its establishment, the Wildlife Commission published a comprehensive report that contained two ground-breaking recommendations.
First was the call for the formation of the Game Department headquarters with the appointment of Captain Ritchie as the first Chief Game Warden. The second was for the formation of the King George V National Park (Taman Negara now) which encompassed Pahang, Kelantan and Terengganu with an area of 4,343 sq km.
Both recommendations were well received by all quarters and saw fruition within just a matter of years. These successes were helped, to a certain extent, by Hubback's fame in discovering an entirely new subspecies of the seladang, Bos Gaurus Hubbacki, which was subsequently named in his honour.
Hubback's best-described seladang hunting expedition took place in 1899. He was particularly attracted to the creature's beauty that lie chiefly in its head and shoulder sections. Beyond that, Hubback thought that the great body length and low quarters gave the seladang a somewhat clumsy appearance.
Malay guides hired by Hubback knew the natural habitat of the seladang like the back of their hands. After all, these trackers were hunters in their own right and knew all the favourite feeding areas and most of the salt licks usually frequented by these large wild cattle. They could even tell how old a track was or the direction an animal was heading just by studying the animal's paw prints.
The guides usually tracked the animal immediately after shooting and looked lightly upon the serious dangers of confronting a wounded animal. Once subdued, the strict Muslims would slaughter the seladang in accordance with Islamic law. The carcass would be cut up into small pieces and dried in the sun as a way to preserve the meat.
With my interest piqued by the interesting seladang hunt and curious to learn more about the duties of game wardens in Malaya, I seek out my small collection of memorabilia that was acquired from a former game warden who served at the Batu Gajah Game Department in the late 1950s.
Among the jumble of letters, documents and photographs are two guide books published by Mohamad Khan Momin Khan, who later went on to become DWNP director-general. The first, Burung Buruan (Hunted Birds) is a comprehensive guide to popular migratory as well as local birds which were the main targets for trappers.
Mohamad Khan's second book, Pemimpin Teknik Penyiasatan Margasetua (Guide to Wildlife Investigative Techniques), details the duties expected of game rangers and provides a number of helpful tips helpful on how to identify wild animals in their natural habitat.
AN ELEPHANT HUNT
Shifting my attention to a 1960 Straits Times article written by Eric Carl Foenander, I realise that the very same pointers advocated by Mohamad Khan were also applied by the-then Pahang Game Warden when he launched a hunt for a trio of rogue elephants.
It all began when Foenander received a report about the herd led by a big and destructive bull when he turned up for work one morning. Departing at 9.30 am, the team spent an hour in the hot sun visiting areas of cultivation in search of fresh tracks and elephant droppings.
Foenander and his men followed the trail of fallen tree trunks until it led them to the edge of a dense forest. After a while, they arrived at a place where the large bull had lain down for a short rest. Foenander was particularly swept away by the impression made by the right tusk in the soft jungle soil. He knew almost immediately that the right tusk was thick, long and jutted outwards with hardly a curve towards the tip. These signs were clues to a pair of perfectly formed, unblemished and heavy tusks.
At the same time, the team also noticed droppings of the two attendant cows at the location where they stood sentinel while the bull rested. The droppings were cold, indicating that quite some time had passed since their departure.
CLOSING IN ON THE TARGET
The subsequent trail of half eaten rattan shoots led the team to a swamp before changing course for higher ground. The men's spirits were lifted after discovering warm droppings on the slope of a slight rise. Foenander immediately reminded his men to remain upwind so that the pachyderms wouldn’t catch their scent.
At around noon, the unmistakable sound of a tree crashing resonated through the forest. The men had finally caught up with the elephants. The final 100 metres were approached with the utmost caution.
Even from that distance, the experienced men could hear the sounds made by the elephants and knew that the bull was feasting on a fallen, thorny palm while his two mates were wallowing in the mud nearby.
Once in position, the hunters patiently waited in the shadows until they were sure of hitting the bull with a well-judged shot. Finally, the moment arrived and the gun went off without warning. Immediately after the first shot, the hunter took a side step to the right before firing his second barrel. The great bull fell to a broken neck.
Meanwhile, the two female elephants were allowed to slip away, as without the male, they wouldn’t be able to cause any more trouble to the villagers.
DRIVEN TO DESPERATION
Foenander and his men were overwhelmed with sadness once they got close enough to inspect the carcass of the male elephant. On its left buttock was a large swelling - over 12 inches broad - that encircled a suppurating, maggot-ridden wound.
The injury, caused by a poacher's shot gun about a week to 10 days prior, must have caused the beast great suffering. It also became clear to the game warden and his team that the festering wound was the very reason why the bull attacked the tapioca planters when they tried to scare it away from their cultivated plots the night before.
In an interview conducted half a decade ago, Mohamad Khan said that some 120 elephants were killed between 1960 and 1970 and the population was reduced to about 500. He put an end to the practice in 1971 when he became head of the Wildlife Department.
Mohamad Khan went to India soon after to learn the Assam lasso technique of using sturdy jute ropes to capture elephants. The practical method was introduced in Malaysia upon his return but the lack of success soon led to the novel method's abandonment.
Reluctant to return to the former destructive method, Mohamad Khan went on to explore the use of drugs. One was so quick-acting that the large animal was immobilised within minutes. The rapid reaction was, however, highly dangerous as the other elephants would gather around their fallen compatriot to protect it. During that volatile moment, an inexperienced ranger could get attacked and even killed.
LEGENDARY CONSERVATIONIST
In order to reduce that dreaded possibility to a bare minimum, Mohamad Khan resorted to using only his best and most experienced rangers. They tied immobilised animals to specially trained elephants from India that would then drag their load out to safety.
The quick acting drug was later replaced by a sedative called Rompun which kept the elephant sedated but still standing. In 1974, Mohamad Khan established the elephant unit of Kuala Gandah Conservation Centre and set in motion the elephant translocation programme that still plays an active role until today.
Motivated by the positive impact resulting from his work to effectively stem the decline in wild elephant populations, Mohamad Khan went on to play a key role in the captive breeding programmes of the seladang and rhinoceros.
His work to increase the survival rates of these magnificent creatures can still be seen today through the continuous implementation of various comprehensive conservation strategies in wildlife conservation centres throughout this country.
Over the past century, giant leaps have been made in the protection of wildlife here. Today, effective animal protection laws are rigorously enforced and forest rangers no longer shoot to kill unless there are absolutely no other options available for them to save the animal in question.
Forest rangers are our nation's unsung heroes. They diligently and persistently put their work above all else to ensure that our wildlife resources are protected at all times. They sacrifice time that could be spent with their loved ones to patrol our forests and put their lives on the line just to help ensure the delicate balance between man and nature is consistently maintained.
Every effort must be made to protect our animal friends and ensure their continued survival. Although the promotion of public awareness programmes is laudable, the advocation of exotic meat on stamps shouldn’t be one of them.