We landed in New
Delhi, the capital of India. That evening I walked through the heart of
the old city, sucking in the rich smells. Incense, curry, cow dung...I'd
missed them all.
I took a train to the Royal Bengal Tiger Preserve, several hours from Delhi, where the tiger in the leg trap was found. At the Forest Headquarters, I found the office for an S.M. Singh, the Field Director and a friend of Dr. Tiger's.
Mr. Singh's office was a dusty room with ceiling fans circling lazily above several desks. Paper--various reports, correspondence and files--was stacked high on his desk.
"Namaste," I said politely.
That means "Hello" in Hindi.
"What can I do for you?" he replied in English.
I introduced myself and added, "Dr. Tiger sent me to write an article about tiger poaching."
Mr. Singh cocked his head. "Yes, Dr. Tiger told me to expect you. Are you an expert on tigers?"
"I know a little about them," I admitted.
"Is that so?" he replied. A smile played on his lips. "Tell me, then--in what parts of the world do tigers live?"
