COLOMBO –- Wildlife enthusiast Pathum Bandara watched Kavantissa, believed to be Sri Lanka’s tallest living tusker, moving gently through the landscape on Sept. 20 around Galgamuwa in the island’s northwestern dry zone, a well-known human-elephant conflict zone. The following day, Bandara noticed that the elephant was limping. A closer look revealed a gunshot wound on his right foreleg, close to the knee. The discovery was alarming because an untreated gunshot wound could become infected and cause severe trauma, potentially threatening an elephant’s ability to walk, feed and survive. The Department of Wildlife Conservation (DWC) dispatched a team to treat the elephant. DWC’s veterinary surgeon Isuru Hewakottage said Kavantissa was sedated to enable the cleaning and treatment of the wound. He received several rounds of powerful antibiotics and remains under observation. Following treatment, Kavantissa has begun moving between small forest patches, sometimes crossing human settlements and the well-known elephant passage near Galgamuwa. The tusker appeared to be recovering but became aggressive after the gunshot injury, sometimes even chasing villagers and wildlife officers, exposing the tusker to renewed threats including the possibility of being fired at, Bandara told Mongabay. Iconic tusker Kavantissa, left, with Sankha, a young elephant, photographed in 2022. Sankha had a mobility restriction caused by a previous gunshot injury and died after falling into a pit. Image courtesy of Pathum Bandara. Bandara recalls the plight of another young tusker once closely associated with Kavantissa. Sankha, a young tusker, was about half Kavantissa’s age and was often seen together during…This article was originally published on Mongabay

COLOMBO – For generations, the sight was familiar in towns and villages across Sri Lanka of a man playing a flute sitting on his haunches next to a woven basket, from which a cobra raised its gently swaying hood, drawing a curious crowd of onlookers. The performance appeared almost magical, as the cobra would seem to have been charmed by the flute’s notes, moving its hood rhythmically like performing a dance. But behind the spectacle was a community with its own traditions, knowledge and relationship with snakes — one that is quickly fading away. Known locally as the Ahikuntika, this small nomadic tribe is also referred to as Sri Lanka’s gypsies or Sri Lankan Telugus. They’ve traditionally traveled from place to place, and men have performed as snake charmers and monkey performers, with the women primarily associated with fortune-telling or soothsaying. Historical accounts describe temporary settlements and an itinerant lifestyle in which families moved between communities to earn a living through performances and traditional livelihoods. Today, however, snake charming has become rare. A group of snake charmers perform with their cobras. Image courtesy of Anslem de Silva. “During our childhood, we could regularly see snake charmers. They were often seen near markets, while groups of itinerant performers would also travel from village to village, announcing their arrival by beating a small hand drum,” recalled 75-year-old retired schoolteacher Chandrasena Liyanarachchi. Sri Lankans have a long-inherited fear of the venomous cobras (Naja naja), yet also accord them cultural significance, and often watch…This article was originally published on Mongabay