Eagle Hunters in the Wilds (Part 2) : Bayan-Ölgii, Mongolia

The landscape around the Altai Mountains of far-western Bayan-Ölgii Province in Mongolia is as untamed as the people and animals who live there. The cold desert climate experiences dustings of snowfall – but little rain – and the measured temperatures – ranging from -22.6C (-8.68F) on a January night to 22.6° (72.7F) on a July afternoon – don’t reflect the winds that blow across the high plateaus. The ground is rocky, supporting only small shrubs and grasses; while it is sufficient for nomadic grazing, I saw no farms or greenhouses. The area is isolated enough to be home to a number of endangered animals and a small population (about 90,000 in 2013) of hardy inhabitants: mostly (93%) consisting of Mongolia’s minority Kazakhs. 

These Kazakhs  – a Turkic people who arose as a unique tribal identity between 1456 and 1465 in the steppes of Eurasia – brought their language, their culture, and their tradition of eagle hunting with them through the mountains to this corner of Mongolia. Isolation has allowed them to keep their customs largely intact: here in the Altai Mountains, a dwindling number pass down the centuries-old art of eagle hunting.

It’s not an easy life: to be a proper berkutchi – as eagle hunters are called in the Kazakh language – they must first find a nest and capture a young female bird from under her parents’ watchful eyes. They then hood the fledgling, tether her and lovingly hand-rear her. When she is big enough, they teach her to come when called and land on her master’s arm, and to hunt down prey and give it to her handler. 

Of course, as is the case with any animal training, repetition is the key – and even then, things don’t always go to plan!

Thanks to Mongolian guides G and Segi of Shaman Tours and photographers Jeffrey Chapman and Winslow Lockhart from Within the Frame, I was in Bayan-Ölgii staying with a family of semi-nomadic Kazakhs. On the third day of following our hosts out into the surrounding hills while they got their golden eagles ready for the the winter hunting season, one of the younger birds attacked the family dog instead of landing on her trainer’s arm. Even with intervention from the eagle hunters, the dog came off second-best and limped home with some nasty injuries. These impressive birds may be guided in their hunting behaviours, but they are never entirely tame!

I’ve posted about the family I stayed with before (see: Nurguli, Kazakh Eagle Huntress; At Home with the Kazakhs; and How to Train your Eagle), but it was endlessly fascinating watching them train (and learn to train) their magnificent golden eagles.

Do join me!

Watching young Nurguli with her golden eagle made me wonder about her world and her place in the future. To be an eagle hunter in this modern age might seem like an odd choice to many of us: but it is a choice. Two of Sarkhad’s sons are in Ulaanbaatar earning their livings (and supplementing the family’s income) in more “conventional” ways.

But, the love that these eagle hunters have for their bird and their environment is evident, and there must be a real satisfaction in wearing the traditional clothing that has been painstakingly made and embroidered by one’s wife or mother, and the hats trimmed with pelts from foxes or rabbits brought down by a bird one has trained oneself.

They have a difficult life, but they are their own masters.

May it always be thus.

Pictures: 29-30September2016