AT FIRST glance, it looked like a poaching expedition. In Royal Chitwan National Park, near Nepal's south-western border with India, dozens of elephants were tramping through the thick jungle, their riders carrying rifles and chattering on walkie-talkies. They were hunting one of the world's most endangered mammals, the greater Asian one-horned rhinoceros. But relax. This was Nepal's annual removal of rhinos from the relatively crowded confines of Chitwan to other parks in the country.

The hunters, led by the director-general of national parks, Tirtha Man Maskey, rounded up ten rhinos in five days. They were immobilised with drugs, put in wooden crates and driven in lorries to Royal Bardia National Park in the far west of Nepal, where the rhino population was once depleted by hunting. By the 1960s there were fewer than 100 rhinos in Nepal. Now, despite the activities of poachers (21 rhinos stolen in Chitwan in the past 12 months), Nepal has a healthy stock of 600. Seventy-seven rhinos have been moved to new homes since 1986. This year officials are particularly pleased that they have caught a pregnant rhino. “Just what we wanted,” says a beaming Mr Maskey. “She will give birth in a few months and we'll be able to truly say we've got a breeding population in Bardia.”

The rhino removals are one of Nepal's rare success stories at present. The country is facing attacks by Maoist guerrillas and its economy is in free fall. In the 11 years since multi-party democracy replaced an authoritarian monarchy, most Nepalis think their lives have got worse. Every year, the story of the great rhino round-up is given great play in the local media. It does cheer people up.