A gripping story of man pitted against nature’s most fearsome and efficient predator.
Outside a remote village in Russia’s Far East a man-eating tiger is on the prowl. The tiger isn’t just killing people, it’s murdering them, almost as if it has a vendetta. A team of trackers is dispatched to hunt down the tiger before it strikes again. They know the creature is cunning, injured, and starving, making it even more dangerous. As John Vaillant re-creates these extraordinary events, he gives us an unforgettable and masterful work of narrative nonfiction that combines a riveting portrait of a stark and mysterious region of the world and its people, with the natural history of nature’s most deadly predator.
About the Author
John Vaillant’s first book was the national bestseller The Golden Spruce, which won the Governor General's Literary Award for nonfiction, as well as several other awards. He has written for The New Yorker, The Atlantic, Outside, National Geographic and The Walrus, among other publications. He lives in Vancouver, British Columbia, with his wife and children.
Read an Excerpt
HANGING IN THE TREES , AS IF CAUGHT THERE, IS A SICKLE OF A MOON.
Its wan light scatters shadows on the snow below, only obscuring further the forest that this man negotiates now as much by feel as by sight. He is on foot and on his own save for a single dog, which runs ahead, eager to be heading home at last. All around, the black trunks of oak, pine, and poplar soar into the dark above the scrub and deadfall, and their branches form a tattered canopy overhead. Slender birches, whiter than the snow, seem to emit a light of their own, but it is like the coat of an animal in winter: cold to the touch and for itself alone. All is quiet in this dormant, frozen world. It is so cold that spit will freeze before it lands; so cold that a tree, brittle as straw and unable to contain its expanding sap, may spontaneously explode. As they progress, man and dog alike leave behind a wake of heat, and the contrails of their breath hang in pale clouds above their tracks. Their scent stays close in the windless dark, but their footfalls carry and so, with every step, they announce themselves to the night.
Despite the bitter cold, the man wears rubber boots better suited to the rain; his clothes, too, are surprisingly light, considering that he has been out all day, searching. His gun has grown heavy on his shoulder, as have his rucksack and cartridge belt. But he knows this route like the back of his hand, and he is almost within sight of his cabin. Now, at last, he can allow himself the possibility of relief. Perhaps he imagines the lantern he will light and the fire he will build; perhaps he imagines the burdens he will soon lay down. The water in the kettle is certainly frozen, but the stove is thinly walled and soon it will glow fiercely against the cold and dark, just as his own body is doing now. Soon enough, there will be hot tea and a cigarette, followed by rice, meat, and more cigarettes. Maybe a shot or two of vodka, if there is any left. He savors this ritual and knows it by rote. Then, as the familiar angles take shape across the clearing, the dog collides with a scent as with a wall and stops short, growling. They are hunting partners and the man understands: someone is there by the cabin. The hackles on the dog’s back and on his own neck rise together.
Together, they hear a rumble in the dark that seems to come from everywhere at once.
There are many people who don't believe this actually happened. They think it's some phantasm of my imagination. But it was real. There are the facts.
Yuri Anatolievich Trush
Shortly after dark on the afternoon of December 5, 1997, an urgent message was relayed to a man named Yuri Trush at his home in Luchegorsk, a mid-sized mining town in Primorye Territory in Russia's Far East, not far from the Chinese border. Primorye (Pri-mor-ya) is, among other things, the last stronghold of the Siberian tiger, and the official on the line had some disturbing news: a man had been attacked near Sobolonye, a small logging community located in the deep forest, sixty miles northeast of Luchegorsk. Yuri Trush was the squad leader of an Inspection Tiger unit, one of six in the territory whose purpose was to investigate forest crimes, specifically those involving tigers. Because poachers were often involved, these included tiger attacks. As a result, this situation-whatever it might entail-was now Trush's problem and, right away, he began preparing for the trip to Sobolonye.
Early the following morning-Saturday-Yuri Trush, along with his squadmates Alexander Gorborukov and Sasha Lazurenko, piled into a surplus army truck and rumbled north. Dressed in insulated fatigues and camouflage, and armed with knives, pistols, and semiautomatic rifles, the Tigers, as these inspectors are sometimes called, looked less like game wardens than like some kind of wilderness SWAT team. Their twenty-year-old truck was nicknamed a Kung, and it was the Russian army's four-ton equivalent to the Unimog and the Humvee. Gasoline-powered, with a winch, four-wheel-drive, and wide waist-high tires, it is a popular vehicle in Primorye's hinterlands. Along with a gun rack and brackets for extra fuel cans, this one had been modified to accommodate makeshift bunks, and was stocked with enough food to last four men a week. It was also equipped with a woodstove so that, even in the face of total mechanical failure, the crew could survive no matter where in the wilderness they happened to be.
After passing through the police checkpoint on the edge of town, the Tigers continued on up to a dirt road turnoff that led eastward along the Bikin River (be-keen), a large and meandering waterway that flows through some of the most isolated country in northern Primorye. The temperature was well below freezing and the snow was deep, and this slowed the heavy truck's progress. It also allowed these men, all of whom were experienced hunters and former soldiers, many hours to ponder and discuss what might be awaiting them. It is safe to say that nothing in their experience could have prepared them for what they found there.
Primorye, which is also known as the Maritime Territory, is about the size of Washington state. Tucked into the southeast corner of Russia by the Sea of Japan, it is a thickly forested and mountainous region that combines the backwoods claustrophobia of Appalachia with the frontier roughness of the Yukon. Industry here is of the crudest kind: logging, mining, fishing, and hunting, all of which are complicated by poor wages, corrupt officials, thriving black markets-and some of the world's largest cats.
One of the many negative effects of perestroika and the reopening of the border between Russia and China has been a surge in tiger poaching. As the economy disintegrated and unemployment spread throughout the 1990s, professional poachers, businessmen, and ordinary citizens alike began taking advantage of the forest's wealth in all its forms. The tigers, because they are so rare and so valuable, have been particularly hard hit: their organs, blood, and bone are much sought after for use in traditional Chinese medicine. Some believe the tiger's whiskers will make them bulletproof and that its powdered bones will soothe their aches and pains. Others believe its penis will make them virile, and there are many-from Tokyo to Moscow-who will pay thousands of dollars for a tiger's skin.
Between 1992 and 1994, approximately one hundred tigers-roughly one quarter of the country's wild population-were killed. Most of them ended up in China. With financial assistance (and pressure) from international conservation agencies, the territorial government created Inspection Tiger in the hope of restoring some semblance of law and order to the forests of Primorye. Armed with guns, cameras, and broad police powers, these teams were charged with intercepting poachers and resolving a steadily increasing number of conflicts between tigers and human beings.
In many ways, Inspection Tiger's mandate resembles that of detectives on a narcotics detail, and so does the risk: the money is big, and the players are often desperate and dangerous individuals. Tigers are similar to drugs in that they are sold by the gram and the kilo, and their value increases according to the refinement of both product and seller. But there are some key differences: tigers can weigh six hundred pounds; they have been hunting large prey, including humans, for two million years; and they have a memory. For these reasons, tigers can be as dangerous to the people trying to protect them as they are to those who would profit from them.
The territory covered by Yuri Trush's Inspection Tiger unit in the mid-1990s was centered around the Bikin (be-keen) River. You can drive a truck on the Bikin in winter, but in summer it has a languid bayou feel. For many of the valley's jobless inhabitants, the laws imposed by the river and the forest are more relevant than those of the local government. While most residents here poach game simply to survive, there are those among them who are in it for the money.
In 1997, Inspection Tiger had been in existence for only three years; given the state of the Russian economy in the 1990s, its members were lucky to have jobs, particularly because they were paid in dollars by foreign conservation groups. Four hundred dollars a month was an enviable wage at that time, but a lot was expected in return. Whether they were doing routine checks of hunters' documents in the forest, searching suspect cars en route to the Chinese border, or setting up sting operations, most of the people Inspection Tiger dealt with were armed. As often as not, these encounters took place in remote areas where backup was simply not available, and they never knew what they were going to find.
Following perestroika, virtually everything in Russia went on sale, and vast quantities of military ordnance disappeared from local armories. In the course of their raids on the many anonymous hunting cabins that dot the forest here, Trush and his men confiscated plastic explosives, TNT, and 12mm (.50 caliber) machine guns, robbed from armored vehicles. Trush could not imagine what one would do with guns that size in the forest, but the explosives were easier to explain: they were used in creeks to kill fish en masse, or to blow bears out of their dens. The Asian market is less interested in the intact skins or carcasses of bears than it is in their paws and gall bladders; the paws go into soup, and the gall bladders are used for medicinal purposes. In Primorye, in the mid-1990s, life, for man and animal alike, was cheap, and corruption was widespread at every level of government. During these years, Trush made busts involving high- ranking police officers and members of parliament, and these were dangerous enemies for a person to have. Trush, however, was well suited to this work because he is a formidable adversary, too.
Trush stands about six-foot-two with long arms and legs and a broad chest. His eyes are colored, coincidentally, like the semiprecious stone tiger's eye, with black rings around the irises. They peer out from a frank and homely face framed by great, drooping brows. Though frail and sickly as a boy, Trush had grown into a talented athlete with a commanding presence, a deep resonant voice, and an ability to remain composed under highly stressful circumstances. He is also immensely strong. As a young soldier in Kazakhstan, in the 1970s, Trush won a dozen regional kayaking championships for which he earned the Soviet rank Master of Sports, a distinction that meant he was eligible to compete at the national level. It was a serious undertaking: he wasn't just racing against Bulgarians and East Germans. "I was," he said, "defending the honor of the Military Forces of the USSR." In his mid-forties, when he joined Inspection Tiger, Trush won a territory-wide weightlifting competition three years running. This was not the kind of weightlifting one is likely to see in the Olympics; what Trush was doing looks more like a contest devised by bored artillerymen during the Napoleonic Wars. It consists of hefting a kettlebell-essentially a large cannonball with a handle- from the ground over your head as many times as you can, first with one hand, and then the other. Kettlebells are a Russian invention; they have been around for centuries and their use clearly favors the short and the stocky. So it is surprising to see someone as attenuated as Trush, who has the Law of the Lever weighted so heavily against him, heave these seventy-pound spheres around with such apparent ease.
Trush learned to shoot, first, from his father and, later, in the army. He also studied karate, aikido, and knife handling; in these, his rangy build works to his advantage because his long reach makes it nearly impossible to get at him. He is so talented at hand-to-hand fighting that he was hired to teach these skills to the military police. Trush's physicality is intense and often barely suppressed. He is a grabber, a hugger, and a roughhouser, but the hands initiating- and controlling-these games are thinly disguised weapons. His fists are knuckled mallets, and he can break bricks with them. As he runs through the motions of an immobilizing hold, or lines up an imaginary strike, one has the sense that his body hungers for opportunities to do these things in earnest. Referring to a former colleague who went bad and whom he tried for years to catch red-handed, Trush said, "He knows very well that I am capable of beheading him with my bare hands." This tension-between the kind and playful neighbor, friend and husband, and the Alpha male wilderness cop ready to throw down at a moment's notice-energizes almost every interaction. It is under the latter circumstances that Trush seems most alive.
The deeper Trush and his men drove into the forest, the rougher the road became. Once past Verkhny Pereval, their route took them through the snowbound village of Yasenovie, a sister logging community of the same size and vintage as Sobolonye. Here, they picked up a young deputy sheriff named Bush, but his presence on this mission was more formal than practical. Bush was a cop, and tiger attacks were beyond his purview; however, if there was a body, he was required to witness it. With Bush onboard, they trundled on upriver.
It was already afternoon by the time they reached Sobolonye, an impoverished village of unpainted log houses, that at first glance seemed barely inhabited. Gorborukov was behind the wheel, and here he steered the truck off the main road, such as it was, and plunged into the forest on a track wide enough for only a single vehicle. Several inches of new snow had fallen earlier in the week and, as they drove, Trush scanned the roadside for fresh tracks. They were about fifty miles from the nearest paved road and a couple of hard-won miles east of Sobolonye when they crossed a wide and improbably located gravel highway. This road had been conceived during Soviet times as an alternative to Primorye's only existing north-south throughway, which follows the Ussuri River north to Khabarovsk (the same route used by the Trans-Siberian Railway). Despite handling every kind of traffic, including transcontinental freight trucks, the Ussuri road is poorly maintained and only as wide as a residential street; it was also considered vulnerable to Chinese attack. This new highway, though safer, wider, and ruler-straight, was never finished and so it is essentially a highway to nowhere-in the middle of nowhere. The only people who benefit from it now are loggers, poachers, and smugglers- pretty much the only people around who can afford a vehicle. But sometimes tigers use this highway, too.
There is an unintended courtesy in the winter forest that occurs around pathways of any kind. It takes a lot of energy to break a trail through the snow, especially when it's crusty or deep, so whoever goes first, whether animal, human, or machine, is performing a valuable service for those following behind. Because energy-i.e., food-is at a premium in the winter, labor-saving gifts of this kind are rarely refused. As long as the footpath, logging road, frozen river-or highway-is going more or less in the desired direction, other forest creatures will use it, too, regardless of who made it. In this way, paths have a funneling, riverlike effect on the tributary creatures around them, and they can make for some strange encounters.
The last three miles of the journey were on a logging track so tortuous and convoluted that even a veteran Russian backcountry driver is moved to shout, in a torrent of fricatives and rolling Rs, "Paris- Dakar! Camel Trophy!" It contoured east through the rolling woods, crossing creeks on bridges made of log piles stacked at right angles to the road. Two miles short of a privately owned logging camp, Gorborukov took an unmarked turn and headed north. After a few minutes, he pulled up at a clearing, on the far side of which stood a cabin.
The cabin belonged to Vladimir Markov, a resident of Sobolonye, and a man best known for keeping bees. The crude structure stood by itself on the high side of a gentle south-facing slope, surrounded by a thick forest of birch, pine, and alder. It was a lonely spot but a lovely one and, under different circumstances, Trush might have seen its appeal. Now there was no time; it was three o'clock in the afternoon and the sun was already in the southwest, level with the treetops. Any warmth generated during this brief, bright day was quickly dissipating.
The first sign of trouble was the crows. Carrion crows will follow a tiger the same way seagulls follow a fishing boat: by sticking with a proven winner, they conserve energy and shift the odds of getting fed from If to When. When Trush and his men climbed down from the Kung, they heard the crows' raucous kvetching concentrated just west of the entrance road. Trush noted the way their dark bodies swirled and flickered above the trees and, even if he hadn't been warned ahead of time, this would have told him all he needed to know: something big was dead, or dying, and it was being guarded.
Parked in front of Markov's cabin was a heavy truck belonging to Markov's good friend and beekeeping partner, Danila Zaitsev, a reserved and industrious man in his early forties. Zaitsev was a skilled mechanic and his truck, another cast-off from the military, was one of the few vehicles still functioning in Sobolonye. With Zaitsev were Sasha Dvornik and Andrei Onofrecuk, both family men in their early thirties who often hunted and fished with Markov. It was evident from their haggard appearance that they had barely slept the night before.
Judging from the density of tracks, there had clearly been a lot of activity around the cabin. Several different species were represented and their trails overlaid each other so that, at first, it was hard to sort them out. Trush approached this tangled skein of information like a detective: somewhere in here was a beginning and an end, and somewhere, too, was a motive—perhaps several. Downhill from the cabin, closer to the entrance road, two tracks in particular caught his attention. One set traveled northward up the entrance road at a walking pace; the other traveled south from the cabin. They approached each other directly, as if the meeting had been intentional—like an appointment of some kind. The southbound tracks were noteworthy, not just because they were made by a tiger, but because there were large gaps—ten feet or more—between each set of impressions. At the point where they met, the northbound tracks disappeared, as if the person who made them had simply ceased to exist. Here the large paw prints veered off to the west, crossing the entrance road at right angles. Their regular spacing indicated a walking pace; they led into the forest, directly toward the crows.
Trush had a video camera with him and its unblinking eye recorded the scene in excruciating detail. Only in retrospect does it strike one how steady Trush’s hand and voice are as he films the site, narrating as he goes: the rough cabin and the scrubby clearing in which it stands; the path of the attack and the point of impact, and then the long trail of horrific evidence. The camera doesn’t waver as it pans across the pink and trampled snow, taking in the hind foot of a dog, a single glove, and then a bloodstained jacket cuff before halting at a patch of bare ground about a hundred yards into the forest. At this point the audio picks up a sudden, retching gasp. It is as if he has entered Grendel’s den.
The temperature is thirty below zero and yet, here, the snow has been completely melted away. In the middle of this dark circle, presented like some kind of sacrificial offering, is a hand without an arm and a head without a face. Nearby is a long bone, a femur probably, that has been gnawed to a bloodless white. Beyond this, the trail continues deeper into the woods. Trush follows it, squinting through his camera while his squad and Markov’s friends trail closely behind. The only sounds are the icy creak of
Trush’s boots and the distant barking of his dog. Seven men have been stunned to silence. Not a sob; not a curse. Trush’s hunting dog, a little Laika, is further down the trail, growing increasingly shrill and agitated. Her nose is tingling with blood scent and tiger musk, and she alone feels free to express her deepest fear: the tiger is there, somewhere up ahead. Trush’s men have their rifles off their shoulders, and they cover him as he films. They arrive at another melted spot; this time, a large oval. Here, amid the twigs and leaf litter, is all that remains of Vladimir Ilyich Markov. It looks at first like a heap of laundry until one sees the boots, luminous stubs of broken bone protruding from the tops, the tattered shirt with an arm still fitted to one of the sleeves.
Trush had never seen a fellow human so thoroughly and gruesomely annihilated and, even as he filmed, his mind fled to the edges of the scene, taking refuge in peripheral details. He was struck by the poverty of this man—that he would be wearing thin rubber boots in such bitter weather. He reflected on the cartridge belt—loaded but for three shells—and wondered where the gun had gone. Meanwhile, Trush’s dog, Gitta, is racing back and forth, hackles raised and barking in alarm. The tiger is somewhere close by—invisible to the men, but to the dog it is palpably, almost unbearably, present. The men, too, can sense a potency around them—something larger than their own fear, and they glance about, unsure where to look. They are so overwhelmed by the wreckage before them that it is hard to distinguish imminent danger from the present horror.
Save for the movements of the dog and the men, the forest has gone absolutely still; even the crows have withdrawn, waiting for this latest disturbance to pass. And so, it seems, has the tiger. Then, there is a sound: a brief, rushing exhale—the kind one would use to extinguish a candle. But there is something different about the volume of air being moved, and the force behind it—something bigger and deeper: this is not a human sound. At the same moment, perhaps ten yards ahead, the tip of a low fir branch spontaneously sheds its load of snow. The flakes powder down to the forest floor; the men freeze in mid- breath and, once again, all is still.
Since well before the Kung’s engine noise first penetrated the forest, a conversation of sorts has been unfolding in this lonesome hollow. It is not in a language like Russian or Chinese, but it is a language nonetheless, and it is older than the forest. The crows speak it; the dog speaks it; the tiger speaks it, and so do the men—some more fluently than others. That single blast of breath contained a message lethal in its eloquence. But what does one do with such information so far from one’s home ground? Gitta tightens the psychic leash connecting her to her master. Markov’s friends, already shaken to the core, pull in closer, too. The tiger’s latest communication serves not only to undo these men still further, but to deepen the invisible chasm between them—poachers to a man—and the armed officials on whom their liberty and safety now depend. Markov’s friends are known to Trush because he has busted them before—for possessing illegal firearms and hunting without a license. Of the three of them, only Zaitsev’s gun is legal, but it is too light to stop a tiger. As for the others, their weapons are now hidden in the forest, leaving them more helpless than Trush’s dog.
Trush is unarmed, too. There had been some back- and- forth at the entrance road about who was going to follow that grisly trail, and comments were made implying that Trush and his men didn’t have what it took. Fear is not a sin in the taiga, but cowardice is, and Trush returned the challenge with a crisp invitation: “Poshli”—“Let’s go.” One of Markov’s friends—Sasha Dvornik, as Trush recalled—then suggested that Trush’s team could handle it themselves. Besides, he said, they had no weapons. Trush called his bluff by urging him to fetch his unregistered gun from hiding. “This is no time to be confiscating guns,” he said. “What’s important now is to protect ourselves.” Still, Dvornik hesitated, and this is when Trush offered him his rifle. It was a bold gesture on several levels: not only did it imply an expectation of trust and cooperation, but Trush’s semiautomatic was a far better weapon than Dvornik’s battered smoothbore. It also short- circuited the argument: now, there was no excuse, and no way that Dvornik—with six men watching—could honorably refuse. It was this same mix of shame, fear, and loyalty that compelled Zaitsev and Onofrecuk to go along, too. Besides, there was safety in numbers.
But it had been a long time since Dvornik was in the army, and Trush’s weapon felt strangely heavy in his hands; Trush, meanwhile, was feeling the absence of its reassuring weight, and that was strange, too. He still had his pistol, but it was holstered and, in any case, it would have been virtually useless against a tiger. His faith rested with his squad mates because he had put himself in an extremely vulnerable position: even though he was leading the way, he did so at an electronic remove—in this drama but not of it, exploring this dreadful surreality through the camera’s narrow, cyclopean lens. Because Zaitsev and Dvornik couldn’t be counted on, and Deputy Bush had only a pistol, the Tigers were Trush’s only reliable proxies. Those with guns had them at the ready, but the forest was dense and visibility was poor. Were the tiger to attack, they could end up shooting one another. So they held their fire, eyes darting back and forth to that single, bare branch, wondering where the next sign would come from.
Behind the camera, Trush remained strangely calm. “We clearly see the tiger’s tracks going away from the remains,” he continued in his understated official drone, while Gitta barked incessantly, stiff- legged and staring. “. . . the dog clearly indicates that the tiger went this way.”
Up ahead, the tiger’s tracks showed plainly in the snow, brought into sharp relief by the shadows now pooling within them. The animal was maneuvering northward to higher ground, the place every cat prefers to be. “It looks like the tiger’s not too far,” Trush intoned to future viewers, “around forty yards.” The snow wasn’t deep and, under those conditions, a tiger could cover forty yards in about four seconds. This may have been why Trush chose that moment to shut off his camera, reclaim his gun, and step back into real time. But once there, he was going to have to make a difficult decision.
In his professional capacity as senior inspector for Inspection Tiger, Trush acted as a medium between the Law of the Jungle and the Law of the State; one is instinctive and often spontaneous while the other is contrived and always cumbersome. The two are, by their very natures, incompatible. When he was in the field, Trush usually had no means of contacting his superiors, or anyone else for that matter; his walkie- talkies had limited range (when they worked at all) so he and his squad mates were profoundly on their own. Because of this, Trush’s job required a lot of judgment calls, and he was going to have to make one now: the tiger is a “Red Book” species—protected in Russia—so permission to kill had to come from Moscow. Trush did not yet have this permission, but it was Saturday, Moscow might as well have been the moon, and they had an opportunity to end this now.
Trush decided to track it. This had not been part of the plan; he had been sent to investigate an attack, not to hunt a tiger. Furthermore, his team was short a man, dusk was coming on, and Markov’s friends were a liability; they were still in shock and so, for that matter, was Trush. But at that moment, he was poised—equidistant between the tiger and the harrowing evidence of what it had done. The two would never be so close again. Signaling Lazurenko to follow, Trush set off up the trail, knowing that every step would take him deeper into the tiger’s comfort zone.
Table of Contents
Part One | Markov |
Part Two | Pochepnya |
Part Three | Trush |
A Note on Translation
What People are Saying About This
“A masterpiece of reconstructed reportage . . . What elevates The Tiger from adventure yarn to nonfiction classic is Vaillant’s mastery of language. Every now and then he drops in a paragraph-length essay that stands alone like a polished gem. His riff on the “unintended courtesy” of wildlife paths in snow is the kind of insight Terry Tempest Williams might weave an entire book around.”
“The Tiger is the sort of book I very much like and rarely find. Humans are hard-wired to fear tigers, so this book will attract intense interest. In addition to tiger lore and scalding adventure, Vaillant shows us Russia’s far east and its inhabitants, their sometimes desperate lives interwoven with the economics of poaching and the politics of wildlife conservation. I was startled to learn about the zapovedniks and Russia’s primary place in global conservation. This is a book not only for adventure buffs, but for all of us interested in wildlife habitat preservation.”
“If ever a nonfiction author has used the techniques of fiction any better to recount a real-life narrative, it is difficult to imagine who that author would be . . . Think of Vaillant as a younger version of John McPhee, but on steroids.”
—The Seattle Times
“A remarkable and thoughtful account of a distant place where man and animal meet with fatal consequences.”
—Richmond Times Dispatch
“[A] riveting story . . . Vaillant’s book teaches a lesson that humankind desperately needs to remember: When you murder a tiger, you not only kill a strong and beautiful beast, you extinguish a passionate soul.”
“By all means read Vaillant’s magnificent book . . . [The Tiger] offers readers a shiver-inducing portrait of a predator that has been revered—and feared—like no other animal . . . A profound examination of the myriad factors that threaten the animal’s continued existence in the world . . . The final pages of Vaillant’s book are suspenseful, but also deeply sad.”
—San Francisco Chronicle
“What spirits this adventure narrative from compelling to brilliant is Vaillant’s use of the tiger hunt as an allegorical lens through which to understand the cultural, economic, and environmental devastation of post-Communist Russia . . . This energetic hybrid of classic adventure and impassioned sociocultural critique will appeal to Jon Krakauer fans, tiger lovers, and readers interested in contemporary Russian history.”
“Suspenseful and majestically narrated . . . Vaillant has written a mighty elegy that leads readers into the lair of the tiger and into the heart of the Kremlin to explain how the Amur tiger went from being worshipped to being poached.”
“This book is magnificent, surely the best chronicle ever published of the wild Amur tigers in Russia’s Far East. In it are chilling accounts of human encounters with tigers—but these encounters, however fearsome, convincingly demonstrate the role that these enormous cats continue to play in the natural world. Equally compelling are the people of Primorye, those who of necessity must hunt the tigers, and those who would preserve them. To call this book a page-turner is an understatement. It’s riveting.”
—Elizabeth Marshall Thomas, author of The Hidden Life of Dogs, The Hidden Life of Deer, The Old Way, and Tribe of Tiger
“This book must be read by everybody who is interested in the conservation of wildlife. It takes you to the Russian wilderness to meet face-to-face with the Siberian tiger.”
—Temple Grandin, author of Animals in Translation and Animals Make Us Human
“This elegant work of narrative non-fiction has it all—beauty, intrigue, a primeval locale, fully realized characters, and a conflict that speaks to the state of our world. Obsessively well-researched and artfully written, The Tiger takes us on a journey to the raw edge of civilization, to a world of vengeful cats and venal men, a world that, in Vaillant’s brilliant telling, is simultaneously haunting and enchanting.”
—Hampton Sides, author of Ghost Soldiers, Blood and Thunder, and Hellhound On His Trail
“The Tiger offers a richly textured, compelling story of Nature and Man at odds—and at risk—in Russia’s Far East. Grounded in meticulous research and informed by extensive field work, the narrative graphically conveys the fragility of life in the unforgiving taiga, where a single misstep can turn hunter into quarry. Few predators inspire more reckless greed, or inflict more relentless punishment, than the Ussuri tiger. By capturing its mystique and savagery, John Vaillant does as much as any mortal hand or eye to frame the “fearful symmetry” that burns in Blake’s “forests of the night.”
—John J. Stephan, author of The Russian Far East: A History
“An absolutely superb book. There have been many tiger books but none which so deeply try to probe the mind of tigers and the mind and habits of humans living in the same forest.”
—George Schaller, Wildlife Conservation Society & Panthera
Reading Group Guide
The introduction, discussion questions, and suggested further reading that follow are designed to enhance your group’s discussion of John Vaillant’s arresting account of the hunt for a man-eating tiger in Russia’s most diverse forest.
1. The Tiger is a riveting book, with the momentum of a thriller and the depth of insight of an extended philosophical meditation. How does Vaillant create suspense throughout the book? What are the major insights he offers about tigers and the larger issues that come into focus through his investigation of the killing of Vladimir Markov?
2. What historical forces have contributed to the desperate conditions facing the people of the Primorye? How understandable/forgivable is their poaching?
3. Vaillant writes: “What is amazing—and also terrifying about tigers—is their facility for what can only be described as abstract thinking. Very quickly, a tiger can assimilate new information . . . ascribe it to a source, and even a motive, and react accordingly” [p. 136]. In what ways does the tiger that kills Markov engage in abstract thinking?
4. Does Markov deserve the fate that befalls him? Is it fair to say that he brought on his own death by stealing the tiger’s kill or by shooting at the tiger?
5. What kind of man is Yuri Trush? In what ways is he both fierce and thoughtful, authoritarian and at the same time sensitive to the desperation that makes people of the Primorye break the law? How does his experience with the tiger change him?
6. Vaillant attributes the attitude of entitlement of Russian homesteaders, at least in part, to biblical injunctions: “1: Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth. 2: And the fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth . . . . 3: Every moving thing that liveth shall be meat for you; even as the green herb have I given you all things” [p. 150]. What are the consequences of this way of viewing our relationship to the earth and other animals?
7. Chapter 18 begins with a epigraph from Moby-Dick. What are the parallels between Trush’s hunt for the tiger and Ahab’s pursuit of the whale and between the behavior of the tiger and that the whale in these stories?
8. After he helps to kill the tiger, native people tell Trush he’s now marked by it, that he now bears, as Vaillant puts it, “some ineffable taint, discernible only to tigers” [p. 290]. When an otherwise tame and placid tiger tries to attack him at a wildlife rehabilitation center, Trush wonders if “some sort of a bio field exists . . . . Maybe tigers can feel some connection through the cosmos, or have some common language. I don’t know. I can’t explain it” [p. 291]. Is this merely a fanciful conjecture, or could it be true that tigers can sense the presence of someone who has killed one of their kind? If true, how would it change our views of animal consciousness?
9. Vaillant suggests that, like captive tigers, most of us “live how and where we do because, at some point in the recent past, we were forced out of our former habitats and ways of living by more aggressive, if not better adapted, humans. Worth asking here is: Where does this trend ultimately lead? Is there a better way to honor the fact that we survived?” [p. 298]. How might these questions be answered?
10. Vaillant argues that “by mass-producing food, energy, material goods, and ourselves, we have attempted to secede from, and override, the natural order” [p. 304]. What are the consequences of this desire to separate ourselves from nature?
11. What makes tigers both so frightening and so fascinating? What mythic value do they have for humans? In what ways are they an important part of the ecosystem?
12. What does the book as a whole suggest about our relationship to nature, particularly to the animals that share the earth with us?
13. It is a precarious time, not just for the Amur tiger, but for all tigers. Poaching and the destruction of tiger habitat pose major challenges to the survival of the species. What would be the significance of the loss of the tiger? What positive steps have been taken to protect it?
14. What changes in human behavior need to happen in order to preserve the (Amur) tiger and similar species? How likely is it that humans will make such changes?
(For a complete list of available reading group guides, and to sign up for the Reading Group Center enewsletter, visit: www.readinggroupcenter.com.)
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Don't read this book before bed. It is so frightening to even fathom that wildlife could seek revenge especially in the form of a several hundred pound tiger. It gave me nightmares for weeks but I couldn't put it down and when i get up the courage I'll read it again!
If you love wild animals you'll find this story fascinating. It's about a little known area of the world, and a thinking animal. I love tigers and all felines, but knew very little about tigers, and had never heard of the Amur tiger. After reading this you'll be hard pressed to believe that animals have no ability to reason. Also, this book will open your eyes to poaching and the pathetic plight of top tier predators, whose habitats are disappearing more and more rapidly as time goes by. If you don't become a tiger activist after reading this book, I'd be surprised. It's a story you've never read or probably even heard of before, which makes it a page turner. I really had a hard time putting it down. Extremely engrossing and well told.
An investigator of forest crimes, Yuri Trush, and his crew hunt a Siberian (Amur) tiger who has brutally killed and eaten two men living in the desolate southeastern region of Russia which borders on China and North Korea. The Amur tiger is facing possible extinction, primarily due to poachers who can exact high dollar for these animals. The Amur is the largest tiger known (can weigh 600+ pounds with a length of 12-14 feet) and is the only tiger habituated to arctic conditions. The actual hunt for the tiger takes about 1/3 of the story with the remainder spent in digressions into Russian history and tiger fact & lore. Well researched and interesting of kind.
I found this book to be rather long in length, and short in story. I was very disapointed that I read 340 pages, and the actual "tiger and human conflict" was less than half the book. If i had wanted a book on the conflicts of Russia, Japan, China, etc I would have sought out conflicts b/t countries. If i had wanted a book dealing with the plight of the tiger and conservation efforts, i would have purchased such a book. However, i read the book jacket and was led to believe that the book dealt with "maneater" vs man, and an in depth account of their battle. I wanted the "attacks", the savagery and the "scare the wits" out of me. Sadly, instead i was bored, but kept reading in hopes the book would get better; it never did. Waste of time and money...Google provided better info of the attacks.
Great story about revenge, Russia, and tiger conservation. Worthy of all the praise it received !
I had to wait on this until the ebook price dropped to 9.99 from its original 12 or 13.99 . Leaving that aside, the book paints a chilling picture of what can happen when an intelligent and physically gifted carnivore feels the need for vengeance. The book also makes salient points about how greed and misinformation (folk medicine) in combination with great poverty are combining to remove a magnificent if dangerous creature.
I really liked the way the author was able to tie a present day situation with a lot of the history and science dealing with the Siberian Tiger and the local people. I was amazed by some of the lore as well as facts of the tigers and the lands of Siberia. A slow read, but still a good one.
A classic sportsman's story and a book that "Field and Stream" readers will cherish. A hair-raising, spine-tingling adventure that will leave readers with a new appreciation for the intelligence, stealth, and power of wild tigers. ---MAW
Excellent story, with equal parts science, history, action, and drama.
This book blends elements of Peter Capstick's stories about hunts for man-eaters, the Russian lore and corruption of Martin Cruz Smith's Arkady Renko novels, and the mysticism of Barry Holstun Lopez's Of Wolves And Men. At times it does seem as if we get too much peripheral information, but most of it is interesting and relevant.This is an unforgettable picture of tigers and people with their backs to the wall. Vaillant is balanced and sympathetic to both men and animals even as he pleads for the preservation of the wild Siberian tiger.
It is impossible not to be drawn into the drama of this book. A great read, it is time well spent.
A great story, well reported. Especially interesting for the author's having included so much background history.
Based on what I had heard about this book I expected it to be the true tale of a man-eating tiger and the hunt to kill it. And it is that but it is also so much more. Vaillant weaves in facts about ecology, anthropology, shamanic beliefs, predation, recent and ancient history and psychology to the basic story. He captured the horror of a tiger attack and the beauty of the ancient taiga forest. He showed how the native Russians lived in harmony with the land while the newcomers, for the most part, saw it as a place of resources to be pillaged. He also demonstrated how these same newcomers suffered once perestroika removed the support of the state. Without the need to put food on the table by hunting the same animals that the tiger hunted Markov, the first victim, might still be alive. The people who live in this area are desperately poor and that desperation causes them to take risks. The Siberian tigers are amazing creatures able to survive in the harshest climate. Unfortunately they have lost much of their traditional hunting area because of man. Sometimes the tigers become desperate too. Thus the conflict between man and beast arises. Will there be tigers in the wild 100 years from now? I hope so and Vaillant shows there have been some recent attempts at protection. Time will tell how effective these measures will be.
The Good Stuff One of the most brilliantly written non-fiction that I have ever read Factual and Informative without being dry or boring and at the same time fascinating, powerful and intriguing This is the first piece of non-fiction that I just didn't want to put down, I was totally riveted The geography is so eloquently explained that you are amazed and interested by it all Author does a fabulous job of making you truly understand and see the strengths of Trush. You can also see the authors fascination and respect for Trush The way the author describes the Tiger is almost poetic (But in a good way as you all know of my dislike of most poetry) Extremely thoroughly researched and impressive Bibliography Fascinating glimpse into the lives and world of people in the Russian Far East which I am ashamed to say I pretty much knew nothing about Ok at times I was totally cheering for the Tiger to win, after all we are in their territory, not the other way around -- however you can see mans point of view as well. Really makes you thinkThe Not so Good Stuff Could have left out some of the detail Didn't like seeing the pictures of dead Tiger's - I'm a wee bit sensitive that wayFavorite Quotes/Passages"One of the many negative effects of perestroika and the reopening of the border between Russia and China has been a surge in tiger poaching. As the economy disintegrated and unemployment spread throughout the 1990's, professional poachers, businessmen , and ordinary citizens alike began taking advantage of the forest's wealth in all its forms.""The Amur tiger, it could be said, takes a Stalinist approach to competition.""The one certainty in tiger tracks is: follow them long enough and you will eventually arrive at a tiger, unless the tiger arrives at you first."What I Learned The Sanskrit word for tiger *vyagghra* was Anglicized into "viagra" -- hmm I wonder why Tigers have fabulous memories and if hurt by a human they will exact revenge (Must remember that when playing with my kitten Oreo, as I am convinced she is part Tiger) So many other interesting things, I really don't want to spoil it for you -- go buy the book alreadyWho should/shouldn't read Anyone with an interest in Tigers There is pretty much something in this for everyone. That being said there are some nasty descriptions that might upset the sensitive reader and there are some pictures of dead tigers5 Dewey'sI received this from Random House in exchange for an honest review. Thank you so much guys, you are constantly opening my eyes to works that I might never have picked up on my ownPosted by mountie9 at 9:31 AM
Time for another confession - I was rooting for the tiger. That being said, this was an extremely well-written story that was part history, part socialogical treatise, part biography, all fascinating -- a story about the Siberian tiger in general, and one man-eater in particular. Fascinating, if weighty, this was a very enjoyable book and well worth reading.
This book takes you into the far-eastern portion of Russia, near the border with China. This is a world of many unique species of plant and animal. The most interesting members of the area's population are the large tigers and the people who eke out a living in the area by hunting and gathering. John Vaillant does a remarkable job of bringing the reader deep in the territory's history, culture and modern-day environment and economy. This well-painted scene is the setting for the story of a sometime-poacher resident in the area who angers the area's largest tiger. The tiger seeks revenge against the man, and goes on to kill another person. A team of local law enforcement officers, the "Inspection Tiger" team, is responsible for tracking and hunting down the tiger before he kills anyone else. This part of the story is as gripping as any crime-novel thriller I've ever read.In his first book, The Golden Spruce, and in this one, John Vaillant has displayed an ability to get into the head space, and physical space, of people (and a tiger) who are so different from those mos of us know. He's also proven to be a first-rate story teller.
In the deep wilderness of eastern Russia, a tiger hunts a man. He is a local hunter and poacher. The tiger is methodical and patient, like an assassin. It does not stalk for minutes or hours but for days. It is the dead of winter and the man is doomed.Enter Operation Tiger, an under-funded agency, who¿s primary job is to protect the endangered tiger. It¿s a small group, led by Yuri Trush, a skilled hunter and environmentalist. They are given the special and dangerous task of tracking down this rogue man-killer, before it strikes again.This fascinating and intense story, is not only about this harrowing true-life incident, but also covers many other topical issues, like Russia¿s dire economic situation and describes the hard-scrabble lives of these inhabitants of the Far East, mostly outcasts and ex-cons.The book also delves into the complex relationship of this magnificent predator and man himself, which stretches back eons.This is impeccably researched and exceptionally well-written. Narrative non-fiction at it¿s very best.Here the author sketches the tiger:¿¿picture the grotesquely muscular head of a pit bull and then imagine how it might look if the pit bull weighed a quarter of a ton . Add to this fangs the length of a finger backed up by rows of slicing teeth capable of cutting through the heaviest bone. Consider then the claws: a hybrid of meat hook and stiletto¿¿I¿ve always admired this wonderful animal but now my adoration and respect, has gone to a whole new level.
I read this book over three days at Thanksgiving (here in Canada), which is the first time that's happened in a long time, especially for non-fiction. The other reviews will tell you the basic storyline, but for me it was John Vaillant's writing that really was the key thing. For everyone I've told about this book (and there are many to match my enthusiasm), I've said that at time John's writing was like a combination of Hemingway and Conrad. There passages where you literally have to remember to breath. That being said, the other great strength is the pacing and spacing of the book. If John had written only about the events concerning the tiger and main characters, the book would likely be 1/4 to 1/3 its length. It's all the other background, mysticism/old religion, anthropology, psychology, and other information current and historical that he provides that makes it so enjoyable. It will definitely be a book on my list to gift this Christmas.
A truly great book if you are interested in Tigers, wildlife preservation and the incredible history of the Russian people. Included is lots of tiger mythology and the interaction of people with the tigers they live along side. The book traces the life of Vladimir Markov, his encounter with the tiger. Yuri Trush of the Inspection Tiger unit follows the path of Markov unraveling the sequence of events leading to Markov's decisions and eventual death. A very good read!
This book is enthralling. Valliant does a great job bringing out the terror of the great beast, the tiger, and painting a picture of life in Russia's Far East. It's entertaining and extremely fascinating.
The author follows the story of a Russian man who has tried to kill a Siberian tiger for its value on the black market. Instead, the tiger takes specific steps to eat this hunter and leave nothing more that a few scraps stuck in his boots. The agency in charge of the preservation of the tiger is called in to hunt this tiger and kill it. At first the agent in charge would like to find a way to not have to kill the animal, but after another killing he knows he must hunt it down and destroy this beautiful animal. In addition to this hunt, the author traces the history of this tiger and how it has been able to survive from the dawn of man's arrival in this region.
On December 5th 1997 in the remote village of the Russian Primorye territory, a vicious and startling tiger attack took place. The tiger, mad with blood-lust and rage, attacked and almost totally consumed a hunter and trapper named Vladimir Markov. But this tale isn't as simple as it first seems. When Yuri Trush and his team of investigators arrive at the scene of the attack, they find not only the startlingly gruesome remnants of Markov, but also discover that this particular tiger seems to have been inflamed with a desire for vengeance against Markov due to injustices committed by the hunter. Now injured and haunting the countryside for more human meat, the tiger is not only dangerous to humans and animals alike, but cunning enough to lure other unsuspecting humans right into its traps. The group of rangers responsible for catching this tiger have never dealt with a situation quite like this one before. Going by the name Inspection Tiger, these men are usually working on illegal poaching cases, and most of the time it's their job to protect the tigers from the men who want to kill them. This time, it's their responsibility to protect the men from the tiger, and it seems that this tiger isn't willing to play by the rules. Melded into this tense and absorbing storyline is the story behind Russia's total economic and political collapse in the years after perestroika and the total reorganization of the lives of Russia's people. Living on the fringes of society and exploiting the the wilderness for sustenance, this group of disenfranchised people are not only frightened by the wild tiger in their midst, but are also mistrustful of Inspection Tiger, making this a complex melange of danger that drastically affects the local population. Both gruesome and shocking, The Tiger tells a frightening story based on one of humankind's most primal fears and expounds on the miraculous killing machine that is the Amur Tiger.A few months ago I was perusing the blogs and checking everything out and I came across The Boston Bibliophile's mention of this book. Though I had seen it mentioned before, I wasn't all that interested in it and had decided to pass it up. But something overtook me when I was reading Marie's thoughts on it. Her enthusiasm was so great that I immediately went over to the publisher's site to check it out. From that point on, I was hooked and knew that I had to read it. I can't put my finger on what it was about this book that so intrigued me, but whatever it was, it was hard to ignore. When my copy arrived and I settled down to read it, the people in my house were constantly being bombarded with tiger lore and myth until finally they politely told me to go away and be quiet. This book was such an interesting piece of non-fiction that I had trouble tearing myself away from it, and as such it was one of my best reads of the year.Everyone is familiar with tigers. But do you really know just what makes a tiger such a lethal killing machine? Is it the claws that are described as having a double edge as sharp as a surgical scalpel, or the fact that its claw is needle sharp at the tip and closely resemble the talons of a velociraptor? Or is it the fact that its fangs are the size of a human index finger and are backed up by rows of slicing teeth? Perhaps it's the fact that when a tiger attacks it uses its tail as a stabilizing device, making its aim truer and its balance steady. Now imagine all this wrapped around five hundred pounds of muscle and turned against a human with a measly hunting rifle filled with buckshot. Factor in that this particular tiger was not merely angry but infuriated with Vladimir Markov. Even in the in the most optimistic outcome, Markov never had a chance. As Trush and his men begin to canvas the area, they discover that Markov may have engaged in some serious breaches of etiquette toward this tiger and that his infractions may have been the last straw that finally pushed the tiger into the realm of insanit
I listened to the audible version of this book, which is narrated by the author. At first his flat delivery really bothered me (most audible books are narrated by actors), but once I got a little deeper into it, I appreciated being read to by the person most intimately connected to the material. The tale at the core of the book was a simple one. After being wounded by a hunter, a Siberian tiger starts stalking and killing local hunters. The agency charged with protecting this endangered species now has to hunt this particular tiger down.But the larger tale is one of context: a relic habitat in a remote area, and the native people and Russian newcomers who struggle to survive in very tough economic times. Discussions of anthropology, ethology, human evolution and prehistory, Sino-Russian relations (past and present), environmental protection (or degradation), and more, made this one of the most fascinating listens I've tuned in to for some time.
So much information is packed into this book along with a truly amazing story. The awesome and terrifying power of the Amur tiger is made abundantly clear as the author tells of several deadly tiger attacks in far eastern Russia. It's so much more than that. The main thread is one particularly large tiger that has crossed the line into man-eating. The brutal environment of the taiga, the impoverished lives of the Russians and native peoples who live there, and the men who are charged with hunting this tiger made it difficult to put the books down.
John Vaillant's "The Tiger" revolves around the true story of a man-eating tiger in the far western reaches of Russia. The story mostly follows the main investigator, Yuri Trush, but also fills in the gaps through stories about various other affected townspeople. Those looking for a straightforward animal attack story will be disappointed as the book is also filled with boatloads of information related to Tigers, the Native population and Russia in general. Some would view this as information overload, and sometimes it did feel this way, but I mostly found that it balanced out the main "story" well by providing further insight into the situation and events that lead up to the attacks.