The Independent 13 Feb 09;
Europe's most endangered mammal has been pulled back from the brink of extinction and it's all thanks to one woman, as Elizabeth Nash reports from El Acebuche, Andalusia
You would be lucky to see the shy, elusive Iberian lynx, Europe's most endangered mammal, in the wild. The 250 or so wild lynxes that remain after decades of depredation of their habitat hide deep in the protected scrubland of Spain's south-western corner, and shun human contact.
But you may just glimpse the agile and astute creature, twice as big as a domestic cat but half the size of the more common Eurasian lynx, crouching at night by the road that borders Andalusia's Doñana National Park, poised to dart across.
The roadsides here are cleared of vegetation to make the lynx more visible to motorists, and high fences discourage it from venturing outside its terrain. But being run over remains the main cause of mortality.
The second is the lack of prey, principally rabbits, forcing lynxes to brave the perilous roads in search of new sources of food.
Thirty years ago, thousands of lynxes, distinguished by their handsome tufted ears and bushy side-whiskers, roamed southern Spain and Portugal. By the late Nineties, numbers had dropped below 150 and the Iberian lynx (lynx pardinus) was declared the world's most endangered feline, at imminent risk of dying out. Electric fences, farmers' traps, heedless hunters, forest fires, careless drivers, intensive farming, fatal disease among rabbits, and uncontrolled road-building and urban development combined to drive this unique and beautiful Iberian feline, symbol of a complex interdependent ecosystem, to the brink of extinction. "If the lynx does become extinct, it will be the first cat to die out since the sabre-toothed tiger 10,000 years ago," warned Peter Jackson, the World Conservation Union's cat specialist.
The decline was halted at the turn of the millennium, in a rare spasm of concerted action by national and regional authorities, boosted by conservancy campaigns such as that of the Worldwide Fund for Nature, WWF, amid mounting public awareness of the treasure that would be irrevocably lost.
Rarely seen in the wild, now you can observe the lynxes' most intimate actions, captured on screens monitored day and night by scientists who five years ago started breeding lynx pardinus in captivity.
The government-sponsored captive breeding centre at El Acebuche deep in the Doñana's protected parkland, a former hunting-ground, has been unexpectedly successful. It started with four lynxes – three females and a male – weaklings that would have perished in the wild. Today, 56 lynxes roam a spacious, fenced scrubland area identical to their natural habitat but with the dangers excluded. Next year, scientists will start gradually releasing them into the wild. As a result, scientists now dare to believe the Iberian lynx may survive after all.
Astrid Vargas, a vivacious, fast-talking Puerto Rican, quit the US for Spain in 2003 to join the Coto Doñana's biological station, and direct the breeding of lynxes in captivity. "The lynx was in a downward spiral; it would have died out without urgent action," Dr Vargas, 43, said this week in the modest, single-storey monitoring centre. "I really do believe it's possible to save the lynx, but it's a huge challenge. It's time-consuming, extremely intensive work."
She glances constantly at a battery of screens linked to 20 cameras that record every snuffle and mew, every gambol and leap of the felines in her charge. She moves the camera to zoom in on lynx action. A mature female steps out for an exploratory stroll: it's Saliega, "Sali", who captured Spaniards' hearts in 2005 by producing the first three lynxes in captivity. Sali pounces on a rabbit, which convulses in a desperate death agony before flopping motionless in the lynx's jaws. "We introduce rabbits into the enclosure so the lynxes learn to hunt their prey just as they would in the wild. We don't want the cubs to see people around them, so we keep human contact to a minimum to prevent them becoming domesticated, and intervene only at moments of life or death."
Another screen records a cuddlier scene, of two young cubs playfully cuffing each other with their fat paws, then sitting as poised and predatory as little tigers, tufted ears cocked, tails flicking, slanted green eyes alert and glittering. "The main aim is to prevent the species dying out," Dr Vargas says. "The next important step is to preserve their natural habitat, and finally prepare the lynxes for their eventual release into the wild."
It is the mating season, and the team of eight biologists who watch the lynxes' every move, day and night, are on maximum alert. They have found that lynxes are extremely sexually active, copulating up to 80 times in two or three days during the week the females are in season. The rest of the time they sleep. Dr Vargas attributes the sexual intensity to levels of oestrogen and testosterone among captive lynxes 35 times higher than other felines, "perhaps a survival mechanism for a species in danger". The lynx reaches puberty at two, sexual maturity at three. They are sexually active from January to June, but usually copulate only in January or February. Gestation lasts 63 to 66 days, followed by lactation of three-and-a-half to four months.
The critical moment is in the cubs' seventh week of life, when they become aggressive and competitive and fight each other, sometimes to death. Three years ago, the nation mourned when the weakest of Sali's first litter was pounced upon by a stronger sibling and ripped to pieces in a fratricidal frenzy. "We feared this would happen," Dr Vargas said then. "Lynxes usually produce litters of three or four, but only the strongest two survive."
Since then, 18 fights have broken out. "But we've been able to break them up. They are not competing for food; they fight with a full stomach. We thought they might be competing for access to dwindling mother's milk as part of the weaning process. But we found that after fights a hierarchy is established and dominance imposed, and we now think that's what triggers the fighting. It happens in the wild too." Aged from 80 to 180 days the cubs learn to chase live prey. "The dominant animals hunt soonest."
These behavioural traits, logged and analysed as the breeding programme progresses, fascinate Dr Vargas, who says she has been surrounded by animals since childhood. Before coming to Spain she helped save the American black-footed ferret from extinction, and spent four years in Madagascar working with the golden-crowned sifaka, a kind of lemur.
But protecting the animal is only part of what is needed. "Captive breeding is a tool, not the solution," Dr Vargas says. "We can't keep animals in cages for ever. We have to prepare them for the wild, and prepare a habitat where they can survives. It's no good breeding all these lynxes, then releasing them to their death. Our priority is to prepare areas for their reintroduction into the wild. We need 10,000 hectares of good Mediterranean scrubland with a good supply of wild rabbits, and the threats removed: no big roads, and no big towns. This doesn't exist yet, but we can prepare it."
Time is pressing. The first lynxes are due to be freed into the wild next year, with between 20 and 40 young animals available for release every year from 2011. They cannot be kept captive because of the risk of genetic weakening in future generations through inbreeding.
"I came here because of my commitment to the lynx; it's a jewel among animals," Dr Vargas says. "I'm optimistic that if we get help from everyone involved we can save it."
The Lynx effect: One woman's quest to save a species
posted by Ria Tan at 2/14/2009 06:46:00 AM