Few are aware that Munnar’s original inhabitants, the Muduvans, were instrumental in opening up the hill-resort’s flourishing tea estates. In the 1870s, when the pioneering British planters first ventured into these densely forested and forbidding hills, they chanced upon these tribals who reportedly fled in utter fear, having never seen a white man before! However, given the Britishers’ fondness for shikar and the Muduvans’ jungle expertise, it wasn’t long before an abiding — and mutually beneficial — bond was forged between them. And this relationship has continued with succeeding generations of planters, right down to the present. Few Britishers embarked on a shikar expedition without a Muduvan guide. Indeed, the tribals could unerringly track down a proscribed rogue elephant — no easy task in those days when the pachyderms abounded. Living off the jungle, the Muduvan himself was no mean hunter and trapper. He was skilled in the use of the muzzle-loader, to provide his family with venison. I once watched a young tribal, hidden in a thicket, lure unsuspecting jungle fowl to his baited snares by realistically mimicking the crowing of a jungle rooster! The honey Muduvans collect from the jungle and sell is known for its purity. Over the years, however, as awareness for the need for conservation spread, the Britishers gradually weaned the Muduvans away from hunting, and engaged them in forestry and anti-poaching work — a job their descendants still do, for the Forest Department. Not surprisingly, given their active lifestyle, I have never seen an obese Muduvan.
