Wildlife and Birding in Manas and Royal Manas National Parks
- devanandpaul
- 21 hours ago
- 12 min read
Updated: 19 hours ago
A birdwatching trip in the India–Bhutan border, featuring Mandarin duck, elephants, rhinoceros, and rich grassland birdlife, especially the Bengal florican.
Imagine standing in a forest where the wilderness stretches across two countries, yet nothing in the landscape demarcates a border.
Manas National Park, in Assam, India, merges seamlessly into Bhutan’s Royal Manas National Park, together forming one of Asia’s most remarkable transboundary wilderness landscapes.
For wildlife enthusiasts it is a continuous ecosystem shared by two nations.
Why Visit Manas National Park?
Located at the Eastern Himalayan foothills (Assam), Manas—a biodiversity hotspot and a biosphere reserve—is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, a Project Tiger reserve, and one of Northeast India’s key elephant habitats.
The Manas River flows through the park, creating a natural boundary between India and Bhutan while supporting a wide range of habitats: grasslands, riverine forests, and sub-Himalayan woodlands.
These grasslands are home to the critically endangered Bengal florican, every birdwatcher’s prized catch.
History and Conservation of Manas National Park
The park, once part of the kingdom of Bhutan, was transferred to British India in 1865. It became a wildlife sanctuary in 1928 and a UNESCO site in 1985.
Poaching and years of political unrest in the region had placed Manas on UNESCO’s World Heritage in Danger list. Recovery began in the early 2000s, driven by conservation efforts and local community involvement. And in 2011, the park was officially removed from that list.
Best Time to Visit Manas National Park
The ideal period to visit the park is from November to April. As the post-monsoon grass dries and settles, visibility improves across the grasslands; consequently, locating elephants, deer, and the Bengal florican becomes easier. Winter also brings migratory birds.
Safari Zones in Manas National Park
Manas has three entry zones, or ranges.
Bansbari: accessible forest zone, good for sighting elephants and mixed birdlife
Bhuyanpara: remote grasslands, best place for Bengal florican
Panbari: dense forest, known for bird diversity
Our Trip to Manas National Park
I planned the trip with Naba Choudhoury, a reputed birding guide based in Guwahati. We reached Manas on a late February morning. After a short break, we entered the Bansbari range, the primary zone in the park.
‘Morning safaris are better for birds,’ Naba said, ‘but mammals are usually seen later in the day.’
That set the rhythm for the days ahead.
Day 1: Safari in Bansbari Range
The road to the range wound through the forest. Along the edges were flame-of-the-forest trees in full bloom. And flocks of chestnut-tailed starlings moved restlessly among the branches.
The forest of Manas is thick, and wildlife appears when you least expect it, so we drove slowly. As we reached a bend, the track opened slightly—and we had to stop!
A Herd of Elephants with Playful Calves
A herd of Asian elephants stood ahead, scattered across the track. The calves moved freely amidst the adults, circling, pausing, and shifting positions, never staying still for long. Around them, the adults remained steady and composed.
One female stepped forward briefly before returning to feed. Another adjusted her position as the group spread out. The matriarch stood apart, facing us, her attention unwavering.
For a few minutes neither side moved much. Then gradually the entire herd drifted back into the forest.
Farther along the road, a crested serpent eagle sat still on a bare branch, its gaze fixed on the forest floor.
Nearby, a blue-throated barbet was enjoying a fruit.
Grey-lored Broadbills and Pale-chinned Flycatchers
Soon the road entered a darker, denser stretch of the forest.
A flicker of movement in the middle layer caught our eye. ‘There they are,’ Naba said softly. ‘Broadbills.’
Four grey-lored broadbills were on the branches, their green plumage merging with the leaves.
A little ahead, the forest shifted from stillness to activity: A pair of pale-chinned flycatchers were moving between the ground and a low branch.
‘Looks like they’re building a nest,’ I said.
They worked in turns—one dropping to gather fine fibres, the other holding position above, then switching roles in a steady rhythm.
A Rare Sighting: Crab-eating Mongoose
We had driven only a short distance when Naba suddenly pointed ahead.
‘That’s a crab-eating mongoose!’
It paused near a waterbody just long enough for us to take in its features—grey flanks, darker underparts, and a pale stripe running from the face to the shoulders.
‘It’s usually found near waterbodies,’ Naba said.
Built for a life along streams and wetlands, it moves between land and water with ease, feeding on crabs, fish, frogs, and other small prey found along the edges of the waterbodies.
Brown Crakes
Soon we reached a small wetland ringed with reeds and low vegetation. We paused to watch the muddy margins for birds. After a few minutes, two brown crakes emerged from cover.
They stayed close to the waterline, briskly probing the soft mud, their tails flicking as they searched for food.
Kalij Pheasants
Later, as we crossed a clearing in the forest, a slight movement beside the track caught our attention: a pair of Kalij pheasants stepping out from the undergrowth. Their plumage appeared richer and more vivid than what we have seen elsewhere in India.
Other Birds Seen in Bansbari Range
Throughout our drive we continued to spot new species. Here is a list of the birds we recorded in Bansbari range:
Velvet-fronted nuthatch | Dark-sided thrush | Pale-chinned flycatcher |
Little pied flycatchers | Crimson sunbird | Streaked spiderhunter |
Asian fairy-bluebird | Tickell’s leaf warbler | Long-tailed shrike |
Grey-backed shrikes | Scarlet minivet | Indian peafowl |
Spotted dove | Red-wattled lapwing | Indochinese roller |
Grey-capped pygmy woodpecker |
By the time the light began to soften, the forest had already offered more than we had expected from the day. As we made our way back, a shape emerged in the fading light: a lone Indian rhinoceros feeding on the grass, occasionally looking towards us.
A beautiful sighting to end the day.
Day 2: Birding at Bhuyanpara and Kokilabari
Our second morning at Manas began with a simple plan. Naba outlined the day ahead. ‘We’ll be out birding all day. No real breaks.’
And we set off.
The idea was to move through different habitats—wetlands, grasslands, and forest patches.
Searching for the Mandarin Duck
Our first stop was Komola Bari area, where a rare winter visitor had been reported—the Mandarin duck. Native to East Asia, it appears in Northeast India occasionally, drawing keen interest from birders. By the time we arrived, a small group had already gathered near the water. While we scanned the area, other birds drew our attention.
A pair of lesser adjutant storks were working methodically through the reeds of the shallows. Nearby, rufous-necked laughingthrushes moved through the bushes.
About 30 minutes passed without any sign of the duck. Then someone whispered, ‘There!’
A female Mandarin duck came into view, gliding across the water.
We had hoped for the striking male, known for its vivid colours and elaborate plumage. But the female, with her soft grey tones and distinct white eye-rings, held its own charm. It moved across the water for a brief spell before heading back towards foliage cover.
Bhuyanpara Range Office Area
From Komola Bari we continued towards the Bhuyanpara Range Office. The forest gave way to wide grasslands stretching to the horizon. As we continued on, in the distance a Bengal florican crossed the field in flight. I raised my camera instinctively, but the haze of dust blurred the view.
‘Don’t worry,’ Naba said. ‘We’ll head into the main grassland area in the afternoon. That’s the right time.’
Closer to us, smaller birds drew our interest: A striated grassbird was trying to balance itself on a slender stem, and an olive-backed pipit worked its way across the ground.
Other species in the area included scarlet-backed flowerpecker and long-tailed shrike.
Out of nowhere an Australasian grass owl swept past us and vanished into the tall grass; a flock of lesser whistling ducks followed, moving overhead in a loose formation; and on a nearby branch, an Asian barred owlet sat alert, its bright yellow eyes fixed in our direction.
The Bodo Community of Manas National Park
We drove past villages along the forest fringes. These settlements are home to the Bodo community, one of the oldest ethnic groups in Assam. They belong to the Tibeto-Burman linguistic family, with roots in the Brahmaputra Valley going back thousands of years. Their traditional faith—Bathouism—centres on the five elements of nature: earth, water, air, fire, and sky.
Farming remains central to their daily life. Families grow rice and vegetables using traditional methods. Also, Bodo women engage in handloom weaving.
The relationship between the Bodo people and the park has seen difficult phases. During the 1990s unrest, poaching and the political conflict took a heavy toll on wildlife. In the years that followed, conservation efforts began involving local communities in protecting the forest.
Today, many residents serve as guides, forest guards, and partners in tourism, playing an active role in safeguarding the landscape around them.
Afternoon Birding at Kokilabari Seed Farm
After lunch, we drove towards Kokilabari Seed Farm, a wide expanse of grassland known for raptors and grassland birds. And almost at once we sighted a changeable hawk-eagle on the ground.
Not far away, three northern lapwings moved through the field, pecking their way across the grass. Then our attention shifted upward: A tiny collared falconet perched briefly at the top of a tree before diving into the air in pursuit of prey.
Soon after, a hen harrier skimmed low over the grassland, followed by two eastern marsh harriers scanning the ground as they flew back and forth.
Farther out, a black-winged kite held itself suspended mid-air before dropping sharply, and a pied harrier crossed the field in the distance
We also recorded Eurasian kestrel and Bengal bushlark in this area.
A Close Encounter with the Bengal Florican
Late afternoon we began scanning the grasslands for the bird we most hoped to see—the Bengal florican, a small ground-nesting bustard and one of the heaviest flying birds in the world. This time it did not take us long.
A male appeared in the open, its black head and neck distinct against the field.
When we moved closer, it disappeared into the grass—no sign for several minutes. Then, in an instant it rose above the grass, glided briefly, and dropped back out of sight. The moment, although fleeting, stayed with us.
The bird is rarely spotted in non-breeding season. Fewer than 1500 Bengal floricans remain today, surviving in scattered grasslands across India, Nepal, and Cambodia.
An Evening over the Grasslands
As light faded and the grasslands settled into a stillness, two short-eared owls appeared over the field, flying across the grassland, their pale wings catching the last light, before slipping into the gathering dusk.
A perfect closing scene to a long and wonderful day in Manas.
Day 3: From Manas National Park to Royal Manas National Park
The next morning, Naba laid out the plan for the day: ‘We’ll start from Bansbari, make our way to Mathanguri, at the border, cross into Royal Manas, and stay in Panbang.’
Before setting off, we obtained a permit, at the BSF (Border Security Force) check post in Bansbari, to visit Panbang, a small Bhutanese town near the Indian border. A valid ID such as a passport, voter ID card, or Aadhaar card is required for Indian citizens. Travelling any farther into Bhutan requires full immigration clearance.
With everything in place, we waited for the gate to open.
An Unexpected Connection
As we stood near the gate, a BSF soldier approached me, calling my name. He had noticed my Aadhaar details—I was from Kanyakumari, the same district as him.
Switching to Tamil, he asked me about familiar places and people. Hearing my native language in the forests of Assam, so far from home, felt strangely comforting. We spoke briefly, sharing tidbits about our locality, until the gate opened and the drive resumed.
Birding from Bansbari to Mathanguri
We motored from Bansbari to Mathanguri; the road wound through dense forest, rich with birdlife. Soon the canopy came alive.
A female scarlet minivet crossed our path, its colours glowing against the green.
Along the way, we saw the following birds:
Yellow-footed green pigeon | Pin-tailed green pigeon | Asian fairy-bluebird |
Fulvous-breasted woodpecker | Lesser yellow-naped woodpecker | Red-breasted parakeet |
Long-tailed minivet | Ashy drongo | Grey-backed shrike |
Grey-headed canary-flycatcher | Chestnut-tailed starling |
A brief movement near the roadside bushes drew our attention: A female chestnut-bellied rock thrush stepped into view, then slipped back into cover.
Mathanguri, the Border Viewpoint
The forest opened at Mathanguri, revealing a wide view of the Manas River flowing calmly through the valley, marking the boundary between India and Bhutan. Naba pointed out how the river’s course had shifted over time, reshaping parts of the border.
At the Mathanguri border check post, we completed the necessary formalities before entering into Royal Manas National Park.
A Drive Through Royal Manas National Park
The road to Panbang led through thick forest. The afternoon felt subdued. Apart from an oriental honey-buzzard high above and a few great hornbills deep in the canopy, the forest activity remained sparse. After a long while, a large form appeared among the high branches: a Malayan giant squirrel, feeding.
We watched it moving along the branches, its long tail balancing each step, until it disappeared into the foliage. Then we pressed on and reached Panbang for lunch.
Panbang, a Border Town with Limited Connectivity
Panbang is spread along the forested riverbank. Despite being in Bhutan, it lacks direct road access to the rest of the country. And to reach places like Samdrup Jongkhar (a commercial hub in eastern Bhutan), residents often travel through Indian roads before re-entering Bhutan at another point.
It is a reminder of how borders were drawn—sometimes without regard to geography. Fortunately, India and Bhutan share close ties, allowing relatively smooth movement for locals and visitors.
Standing there, I couldn’t but reflect on how borders shape lives. In the Indian subcontinent, the Partition of 1947 divided communities overnight, leaving lasting scars and wounds that are still festering. Post-war Europe, in contrast, moved towards cooperation, eventually forming the European Union—an example, however imperfect, of easing rigid boundaries. Borders may be lines on a map, but their meaning depends on how neighbouring nations choose to live with them.
Afternoon Birding in Panbang
After lunch, we set out again, hoping to find wreathed hornbill. We followed the forest road, scanning the canopy. Activity picked up near the river; among the rocks, a slaty-backed forktail was moving alongside a plumbeous redstart and white-capped redstart.
There was still no sign of the wreathed hornbill. Just as we were about to give up, a solitary great hornbill appeared high on a tree, preening. Not the species we had hoped for, but a fitting sight nevertheless to end the day.
As darkness settled in, we returned to our homestay in Panbang.
Day 4: Final Drive Through Manas
On our final morning, we spent about an hour around Panbang, still hoping for a glimpse of the wreathed hornbill, but it remained elusive.
Soon after, we began the drive back towards Mathanguri.
Birds on the Return Drive
An orange-bellied leafbird appeared briefly among the branches before disappearing into the foliage.
As we moved forward, more species came into view: lineated barbet, sultan tit, blue rock thrush, and black-crested bulbul.
We also sighted a black stork perched on a distant dry branch.
A Guardian of the Grasslands
Farther along, we came upon a massive wild water buffalo. Its sweeping horns and solid build gave it a commanding presence. After holding its ground for a few moments, the buffalo turned and moved away.
A Brief Pause at Mathanguri
By the time we reached Mathanguri, the sun was already high over the valley. We stopped near the check post for a cup of hot tea, taking in one last view of the Manas River. There was little time to enjoy the view.
Naba looked ahead. ‘We still have a long drive.’
Our next destination was Kaziranga National Park, where another early morning safari awaited us. So, we hopped into our vehicle and drove off.
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