The morning sun was beating down hard as we made our way back to the Kisli park gate. It had been a few hours well spent. The four of us had had a delightful drive through the meadows and malevolent sal forests of the Surhi range of Kanha, where statuesque barasingha abounded and the sal borer beetle Hoplocerambyx spinicornis, was doing its best to kill whole groves of trees, sawdust heaped around their trunks. The trip had been a revelation. Seldom can I remember a drive with such a sense of wildness, seemingly all to myself. We had stopped, we had watched, we had listened, all our senses concentrated on the sights and sounds of the jungle. Yes, the driver had become a little fidgety, the guide a bit bored, but I was elated.