The legend of Mum
In the last 50 years the black bears of Balochistan have been hunted down to extinction
By Dr Raheal Ahmad Siddiqui
For long, residents of Quetta valley feared the dreaded ‘Mum’. In the days of the Raj, during the winters, children were ushered inside the houses and were asked to lock the doors properly after sunset. As a young girl in 1950s, my mother remembers that the streets of Quetta would go deserted in winters. Ami describes the Mum as a black hairy creature of the mountain that prowled the streets at night in search of ‘naughty children’.
As the myth goes, it would knock at the door and carry the naughty children away.
Another source however relates Mum to be a she-creature that would take away young men and copulate with them in a den. The offspring would always be a female Mum. In the late 1970s in Quetta valley there were a few reported night attacks in the isolated huts. Terror struck the city and newspapers ran stories of the return of the ‘Mum of the Raj’.
On top of the Beengah mountain in the Sulaiman Range, located between tribal areas of Punjab and Balochistan, there is a cave associated with Mumbra (He-creature). The legend has it that it stood on the entrance of the cave, waving a log and chased away an intruding panther, while the shepherd and his flock remained safe. The older generation of Buzader tribesmen would narrate this legend but the Baloch youth find it irrelevant to their present environment. Both the mumbra and the panther have become extinct from these mountains. Interestingly the physical description of the mum and the mumbra fits into that of a black bear.
In February 2000, as political agent, I camped for the night at Border Military Post (BMP) at Chittarwatta, located at the remote north-western tip of tribal area of DG Khan. The borders of three provinces converge at this place. The valley leads to South Waziristan after skirting around the western reaches of Takht-i-Sulaiman. The BMP post at Chittarwata was a colonial fort perched on a hill to guard the western pass. The Britishers built it to protect the towns of Vehowa and Taunsa along Indus plains from the marauding attacks of Waziris. It was burnt and raised to the ground in 1895 and 1901 by the Waziri tribesmen. The present fort was constructed around 1905.
At night, during the campfire I inquired about the existing fauna: Every odd winter there would be sighting of bears moving along the valley. When the Takht-i-Suleiman is enveloped in snow, they descend here in search of food. In 1998, during a massive flash flood in Chittarwatta stream, a carcass of full-grown black bear landed few kilometres downstream of this post. The fury of hill torrent must have caught this bear offguard and smashed it against rocks. Drowning was a subsequent action. Next morning before the jirga it was decided that any fresh sighting of bear should be immediately reported in DG Khan. Anybody heard of hunting or killing a bear would be arrested by BMP.
Three days later, I met the district wildlife officer in D.G. Khan, and made a request to immediately post a game watcher at Chitterwatta for protection of bears. Far from taking any action, the entire department refused to believe the story. The three gentlemen officers of wildlife department proudly produced two photocopied pages from T.J. Robert’s ‘Mammals of Pakistan’ according to which black bears are not found in this part of the country. I was sort of checkmated by the authority on Pakistani wildlife. My evidence was dismissed as exaggerated heresy. When I pulled my copy of T.J. Robert’s book from my briefcase, the trio was taken aback. None of them had actually read or even seen this book. They got the photocopy from a ‘friend’. I was politely made to understand that I may be good in administrative affairs but the wildlife department knows all about their job.
In late October 2000, the news arrived in my office that the Qaisrani tribesmen had killed a female bear and her cub, some 15 kilometres from BMP Post Chittarwatta. I was enraged and asked the district wildlife officer to immediately send his team (three days of hard travelling from D.G. Khan) and book the miscreants under relevant laws. He said he would “look into the matter”. In other words, the matter was closed.
Back in DG Khan, the trio from wildlife department along with some local journalists, the tribesmen swore that the jirga members had not conveyed the PA’s order. They were afraid that the beast would harm them or kill their livestock. They chased the mother and her eight-month-old cub for two days and two nights. The mother could have easily escaped its pursuer but the motherly instinct prevented her from abandoning her baby. She repeatedly paused and came down to help her struggling cub, who could not match her speed. Finally she took shelter in a small cave. Repeated burst of Kalashnikov ended their lives. I presented the front paws of the mother and baby bear, along with a putrefying portion of the pelt as evidence before the wildlife officer.
On my report to the Commissioner and the Secretary Forest, the department initiated an inquiry against the negligent staff. The officers pleaded complete ignorance, which is bliss and by pleading it, you can get away with anything. Two months later I moved on to another assignment. No more was heard on this inquiry.
The black bears of Balochistan have been hunted to the verge of extinction in the last 50 years. They have become extinct from Hazarganjji-Chiltan mountain range around Quetta. With it died the legend of Mum, which had sent so many chills across my mother’s spine in her younger days.