India’s Most-Wanted Man-Eater: Move Over Lions, Here’s an Encounter With ‘Avni’

In my moment of victory, I felt no joy, but immense relief tinged with remorse for what might have been. If only this gorgeous creature, born free, had not had the misfortune of straying out of its natural habitat and killing innocent people!

Photo:Namita Chauhan/ The Quint

(The following is an excerpt from a licensed hunter and Nawab Shafath Ali Khan's book Avni: Inside the Hunt for India's Deadliest Maneater's Chapter No. 4--Hunting Man-Eaters, published with permission from Bloomsbury India. The sub-headings are not a part of the original text, and have been added by The Quint.)

As usual, I had ten extra cartridges and the spare torch firmly positioned on my belt. Further, Kamal’s spotlight had also been pre-aligned to light up the kill as soon as the tigress drew near. Its reflector was shielded, as even a faint glimmer could give away our presence.

Now all that was required of Kamal was to quickly switch on the spotlight when I nudged him with my elbow. We had practised our individual responses earlier and were confident of orchestrating our movements if and when the man-eater decided to take the bait. We sat still and held our breath. At about 6.30 p.m., the winter sun was waning when a mongoose pair arrived at the scene.

After sniffing the carcass all around, they chose to start their meal with the muzzle. Their sharp canine teeth tore open the soft flesh, but they had hardly begun to eat when some sound disturbed them, chasing them out of sight.

Preparing for the Kill

Next, a pack of stray dogs from the village smelt the carcass and began feasting on it. Kamal slowly slipped his hand into his pocket to pull out his catapult, which is often carried by hunters to chase away jackals and dogs from the kill. I signalled to him not to disturb the dogs, as they served to distract the man-eater from our presence.

We remained quiet while the dogs focused on their feast. Suddenly, an alarm call of a peacock roosting on a tree between our machan and the village tore through the quiet evening. A few seconds later, another ‘tonk’ rent the peaceful air. Time seemed to have frozen. A couple of minutes later, the dogs bolted in different directions.

By now it was completely dark and, presumably, time for the man-eater to arrive. I had the rifle in position and was ready for the tigress. Normally, big cats are noisy eaters and, in the quiet of the night, the sounds of tearing flesh and crunching bones are loud and clear. I assumed that once the hungry creature settled down to eat, it would be rather relaxed, giving me the opportunity for a clean and accurate shot. I glanced at my scratched Rolex. Five minutes had passed. All was still and silent. I was beginning to question whether the wary cat had once again sensed our presence.

I nudged Kamal who, as per instructions, promptly switched on the spotlight. The dead calf came into full view, but there was no sign of the man-eater. Using my left hand, I raised the torch a little, directing the beam about 20 m away from the kill.

There, in the spotlight, sat the majestic tigress—like a dog on its haunches with its front legs raised to shield it from the torchlight. It ducked down and sat flat on the ground the moment the light fell on it.

Taking Down the Wild Beast

Since, there was no grass or bush behind which it could take cover, it charged towards the light, coughing out two piercing growls ‘hoof, hoof ’. The roar was loud and menacing enough to paralyse the coolest hunter. Villagers later told me they heard it a kilometre away!

All this took place in a fraction of a second and as I grabbed the heavy rifle again and aimed, the man-eater was almost air-borne. My first shot struck it just below the neck. The shattering impact of the 510-grain softnose bullet not only stopped the tigress in its tracks, but also made it somersault.

In a heartbeat, the roused beast rolled over, regained its balance and surged forward once again. By this time I had worked another cartridge into the chamber.

When it was no more than 12 m away from us, I fired the second shot between the shoulder and the neck. Once again, the oncoming giant rolled over and steadied itself and, with a deafening roar, lunged at us.

By now, the furious beast was directly under the machan, out of our line of sight. Quickly working the third bullet into the chamber, I lay down flat to sight it. Kamal flashed the spotlight downwards. The light revealed the most heart-stopping sight—the magnificent tigress, with claws extended and fangs bared, was ready to maul us. Hardly metres away from us, its eyes reflected the light like two fiery balls. We could smell its fetid breath. I pointed my rifle at the centre of its forehead and fired.

There had been no time to aim. Kamal too took a good share of the recoil from my .458, and the torch fell to the ground, plunging us into total darkness. Working the fourth and last cartridge in the chamber, I grabbed the spare torch from my belt and flashed it down on the beautiful beast. It now lay dead.

In death as in life, the man-eater of Faizabad inspired awe and, inexplicably, a deep pang of regret in me. Its overpowering physical stamina, its regal gait, its bewitching feline beauty, its uncanny skill in meeting the challenges of the unknown—all this had invested my 35-day chase with sensational drama and undying respect.

In my moment of victory, I felt no joy, but immense relief tinged with remorse for what might have been. If only this gorgeous creature, born free, had not had the misfortune of straying out of its natural habitat and killing innocent people!

Taming Over Hunting 

Appreciating my efforts, the chief wildlife warden, B.K. Patnaik, issued a certificate that stated, ‘Nawab Shafath Ali Khan had handled a dangerous situation which the forest department could not, with utmost courage and bravery and brought an end to the terror of the man-eater by eliminating it and thus saving human lives as well as livestock’. However, this was probably a watershed moment in my professional life.

While gazing at the mesmerizing spirit of the Indian jungle, I wished that the chase had turned out differently, allowing me the chance of capturing this cat alive. After this dramatic and poignant experience, I was determined to make a commitment to promote tranquillization by using my professional experience in the field.

This was the moment when Wildlife Tranqui Force, an NGO devoted solely to the art and science of tranquillizing, was born, under the able guidance of Hitesh Malhotra, head of forest force, Andhra Pradesh (Retd), and senior veterinarian Dr M. Navin Kumar, deputy director of Nehru Zoological Park, Hyderabad.

Thereafter, we have trained Indian Forest Service (IFS) officers, veterinarians and frontline forest staff in nine states, mitigating human–animal conflict even at high security institutions such as international airports. I am proud to tell the reader that our NGO has expertly captured rogue elephants, sloth bears that had moved into human habitation and had become a threat to the local communities, a man-eating tiger in Maharashtra, a leopard in Karnataka that had entered a house where a 19-year-old girl was feeding her baby in the periphery of Bandipur Tiger Reserve, and several other dangerous animals in life-and-death situations to resolve such conflicts expeditiously.