Part of our programme included spending an afternoon on a machaan that overlooked a waterhole in the forest. Our riding elephants dropped us off, and we were given strict instructions to remain put until later, the elephants would come to pick us up.

So we sat, hoping that a tiger or leopard would come down for a drink. No such luck. After a while, a juvenile rhesus macaque poked its head out and looked around warily. Then, taking infinitesimal care, it emerged into the clearing cautiously. If it had been born and brought up in Delhi, it would have probably charged out, clambered up our machaan and relieved us of our drinking water and snacks. But not this fellow. I thought these forest monkeys were such wimps!

It was getting darker by the minute- and there was no sign of our elephant pickups. So we decided to trek back to Dhikala. We set off in single file along the forest path. When I was suddenly confronted by all the pioneering leaders rushing pell-mell back urgently whispering, 'mad elephant, mad elephant!' I saw the bulk of an elephant- I can't vouch if its head was aggressively cocked and trunk rolled up, appraising us prior to charging. Incontinently, we fled, to our machaan and clambered up.

One spank from its trunk would have sent any of us flying clear across the waterhole! We could only sit quietly. I realised that the juvenile rhesus had a very good reason for being so cautious. We had not.