Author: By Thor Hanson, Globe Correspondent

Date: SUNDAY, February 14, 1999

Page: M1

Section: Travel

BUHOMA, Uganda -- The forest was dim and quiet and our wet shirts clung to our backs in the heat. Charles Kyomukama, the lead tracker, peered down at the paths of trampled vegetation and wiped sweat from his brow with a handful of crushed leaves.

``Others were feeding here,'' he said, pointing at a sapling stripped of its sweet green bark, ``but our gorillas have gone up.'' We rose to follow with a collective sigh: When mountain gorillas have a choice, they always go up. For nearly five hours we had tracked this family of gorillas, cutting our path through the thick tangle of Uganda's Bwindi Impenetrable National Park, still known by its former and more picturesque name, the Impenetrable Forest.

Nestled among the steep, cultivated hillsides of southwest Uganda, Bwindi Park supports half the world's population of 600 endangered mountain gorillas in a remote pocket of lush rain forest. Two of the park's 23 gorilla families have been habituated to accept daily visits by small tourist groups. Our party included gorilla trackers, a park guide, and six determined British and American tourists, doggedly pulling themselves up the rugged hillside.

As a Peace Corps volunteer in the Impenetrable Forest, I spent two years working with Uganda National Parks and the International Gorilla Conservation Program, a World Wildlife Fund/African Wildlife Foundation project, to help develop tourism in the park. On this warm day in August, I was accompanying the tourist group for one of my last visits to the gorillas before returning home to the United States. Currently, Bwindi is the most popular park for gorilla tourism. But that wasn't always the case. American researcher Dian Fossey devoted over 15 years to the study and preservation of mountain gorillas in the neighboring country of Rwanda. Her work, her book (then movie) ``Gorillas in the Mist,'' and her still unsolved murder brought international attention to the species.

Gorillas became a major tourist attraction for Rwanda until 1994, when civil war and massive tribal bloodletting left more than 500,000 people dead and millions displaced from their homes. Political instability there and in the neighboring Democratic Republic of Congo (formerly Zaire) has made both countries unreliable travel destinations, and more and more tourists are choosing the relative safety of Ugandan parks for their gorilla-tracking adventure.

To many people, Uganda brings to mind its own images of political turmoil. Dictator Idi Amin led the country to ruin in the 1970s, committing unspeakable atrocities and acts of genocide against its people. Although less publicized, Uganda's suffering continued under Amin's eventual successor, Milton Obote, cementing Uganda's reputation as a place hardly safe for its own people, let alone tourists.

But since Obote's overthrow in 1985, Uganda has enjoyed more than a decade of social and economic recovery. On his landmark African tour last spring, President Clinton spent two days in the country, and US diplomats have praised current leader Yoweri Musevini for taking steps toward democracy and a free-market economy.

Tourist infrastructure and accommodations are still rustic in many areas, but Uganda's tourism officials are supporting broad improvements.

``Where's the chairlift?'' someone muttered. Reaching the gorillas can be a strenuous hike of four hours or more, and even the fittest travelers rely on anticipation to drive them up the steep slopes. We pressed on, excitement mounting, as the gorilla's dung and bent-leaf trail grew fresh.

Overhead, a tight lattice of vines and leaves blocked all but the faintest rays of midday sun. Saplings and tree ferns vied for the light, and moss, like green water, hung dripping from every branch.

Topping a rise, we came suddenly to the western edge of the forest, a near-straight line separating jungle from cultivation along the Zairian border. Thirty miles to the south, the dark, conical peaks of the Virunga Volcanoes loomed over the collective boundaries of Uganda, Rwanda, and Zaire. There, contiguous national parks in all three countries protect the forest home of the world's only other population of mountain gorillas, separated from their Bwindi cousins by more than 20 miles of intervening farmland. Charles looked down the hill, squinting in the sunlight, and shook his head with a rueful smile. ``Again, they are chewing bananas,'' he said.

From our vantage on the hilltop, we could see the gorillas clearly. Their dark shapes looked bulky and out of place in the fields, moving slowly among the broad-leaved banana plants. As we made our way down the slope, a farmer called out angrily from above, ``Your animals, they are bleeding us! What will we eat now?'' One of the trackers went to try to calm the man while we descended to position ourselves near the feeding apes.

Bananas are the only local crop favored by gorillas, but contrary to popular belief, they rarely eat the fruit itself. It's actually the watery core of the plant stem that draws them from their forest home. Stands of banana trees near the forest edge may be destroyed before they ever have a chance to bear fruit.

We watched a young silverback (adult male) reach up with one huge arm and pull down a 15-foot tree. The tourists gaped and snapped pictures, but the gorilla seemed indifferent to the cameras, glancing our way with calm, intelligent eyes, and scratching absently at the long black fur on his shoulder.

Then, with a casual flex and a sideways tear of his teeth, he separated the trunk into ropy strands and began chewing noisily. Occasional belches and rustling leaves revealed the presence of others resting and feeding around us. We couldn't see them, but we knew who was there: Mugurusi, Old Man, the grizzled lead silverback; Kacupira, Limp, who broke his wrist in a fight; or Karema, the Cripple, the calm young male with maimed fingers. Through two years of habituation and monitoring, we had come to know this family of apes by their personalities as well as their physical traits.

So when we heard a sudden grunt and the noise of a gorilla moving our way with purpose, we knew without looking that it had to be Katome, the Small Fist.

Too young to challenge the group's two adult silverback males, Katome is a pugnacious black-back and the group's self-appointed watchdog. His habit of screaming and charging to within inches of visitors is not only frightening, it exposes him, and the rest of the group, to a variety of dangerous human diseases. Tourists follow strict regulations to minimize the risk of disease transmission (you won't be allowed to track gorillas if you have a cold), and maintain a minimum distance of 15 feet from the animals at all times. But convincing a charging gorilla to observe the same rules is another matter altogether.

Today, however, Katome seemed satisfied with a hostile glare, stalking past us like a gunslinger at the swinging doors of an Old West saloon, all chest and swagger and heavy brow.

The farmer above us continued working, swinging his hoe at the earth, and turning the black soil for a row of young banana shoots. This convergence of forest, gorillas, and agriculture is a true microcosm of conservation problems in Uganda, where a rapidly growing human population is pressing right up to the edge of protected areas. Through tourism, conservationists hope to create an economic incentive for preserving mountain gorillas and their habitat. In less than five years of operation, Bwindi's gorilla tourism program has attracted thousands of visitors to Uganda and become the primary income generator for the entire National Park system.

Our gorillas had finished their meal and retreated into a thicket between two fields. We inched closer but glimpsed only shaking leaves and dim shadows in the dense undergrowth. During a short briefing before the trip, our guide stressed that the Impenetrable Forest often lived up to its name. ``We will find these gorillas,'' he told us, ``but the forest is very thick and there's no guarantee we will see them in a clear view.'' Spotting them in the open had been lucky, and we were beginning to think our initial views were all we would see, when a small black head suddenly emerged from the greenery. Kasigazi, the Little Guy, climbed slowly out of the leaves, ascending on thin branches toward a particular tangle of vines. Grabbing at the swaying knot of green, the juvenile ape carefully pulled each strand through his teeth, nimbly plucking off the leaves with an audible snapping sound.

Young gorillas command a high price in the illegal pet trade, and poachers often try to capture them alive, killing several protective adults in the process. Despite improved ranger training and a more efficient patrol system, three known attacks in 1995 took the lives of at least seven animals in Uganda and Zaire, with one infant abducted for sale internationally. These killings marked the first time in 10 years that poachers had targeted well-known, habituated gorilla families, a brutal reminder that despite a concerted international effort, the world's 600 remaining mountain gorillas may still face extinction at the hands of man.

Still, there is reason to be hopeful. A positive lesson can be learned from Volcanoes National Park (Parc National des Volcans) in neighboring Rwanda, on whose forested slopes Fossey did much of her work. Park patrols, tourism, and research activities were all suspended during the recent civil war, but the gorillas and the forest survived the conflict relatively unscathed. Despite the chaos, with battles fought inside the forest in 1991 and thousands of refugees fleeing through the area, the park boundaries remain intact and only two gorillas were lost. Habitat continues to be damaged by refugee camps in neighboring Zaire, but both sides of the Rwandan conflict seemed to recognize the economic potential of gorilla tourism, which had once been the country's third highest generator of foreign exchange. Uganda's tourism project hopes that bringing in similar revenues will make its own gorillas a high government priority. Additionally, several international organizations are cooperating with local authorities to spread conservation education, agroforestry, and family planning information to communities surrounding the park. Their integrated program is designed to help reduce the overall human pressures on the forest. The World Bank is also involved, with a new trust fund to support research, park management, and community development in and around Bwindi Forest and nearby Mgahinga Gorilla National Park, Uganda's component of the Virunga Volcanoes.

Towering pillars of cloud loomed above the forest as the final minutes of our visit slipped by. Kasigazi was still feeding high overhead, and Katome had returned into the open, resting on his back with one leg flung upward like another dark trunk in the shade. Several others had moved into a stand of banana trees farther down the slope, and we saw the broad leaves shudder as another stem went down.

``That was the fastest hour of my life,'' someone whispered as we slowly backed away and began climbing through the fields. Time with the gorillas is strictly limited to minimize disturbing their natural behavior, but everyone was still ecstatic, wide-eyed, and smiling when we paused to rest on the hilltop.

One of our group wanted to photograph the man planting bananas, but he turned away with a frown and stalked off across the field. To farmers living at the forest edge, tourism and foreign exchange mean nothing when gorillas destroy the crops they need to feed their families. Governments can dictate policy, but local people are the ultimate stewards of the forest, and gaining their support is vital for the long-term protection of mountain gorillas.

Currently, Bwindi Park is implementing a pilot project to share a portion of tourism revenues with surrounding villages, and profits from a community-managed campground have already been used to assist a local school, medical clinic,and women's club. Funds are now available to compensate farmers for their damaged crops, and a new multiple-use program allows certain, low-impact activities like bee-keeping and the collection of medicinal herbs in designated areas of the forest.

These measures should help people like the angry banana farmer associate gorillas and forest conservation with a tangible increase in their standard of living. Too often in the past, national park policies have disregarded the human element of conservation, creating tension and resentment between parks and people. Only when governments and local communities together perceive the forest as an asset will there be real hope for the preservation of mountain gorillas into the next century.

Heavy tropical raindrops spattered against the greenery, and we hurriedly donned our jackets for the long hike back to camp. Suddenly the trackers motioned for silence and pointed down the hillside. Far below us, the gorillas were returning to the forest. They walked hunched forward on their knuckles in a single-file line, ponderous black shadows in the drizzle. Mugurusi, the lead silverback, stopped at the forest edge and seemed to look in our direction while his family slowly crossed the clearing behind him and disappeared, one by one, into a wall of green.

Abercrombie and Kent (800-323-7308) offers trips departing from Entebbe that include two days of gorilla tracking at Bwindi ranging from $2,700 to $4,200 per person (double occupancy). Park East Tours (800-223-6078) offers a similar trip for $3,265. Both companies recommend booking eight to 12 months in advance due to the limited number of tracking permits available.

Safari packages cover all meals, transportation, and accommodation, but do not include air fare to and from Uganda. Round-trip tickets from Boston to Entebbe on British Airways start at approximately $1,800, and vary according to the length of stay.

Independent travelers should call Uganda National Park headquarters in Kampala (256-41-530158 or 530574) to prebook a gorilla-tracking permit two to three months in advance. Permits cost roughly $200 per person, with a maximum of six people in a group. Standby permits are sometimes available at the park itself, but you should be prepared to wait for several days. (Note: Standby travelers should also inquire about Mgahinga National Park, where a habituated group is often available for tracking when it crosses into Uganda from Zaire.) Transportation from Kampala to Bwindi Park can be difficult, so allow for two full days on the road before the date of your tracking permit.

Four-wheel-drive rental cars are available in Kampala, or catch one of the buses departing from the main bus station at 8 a.m. daily for the eight- to 12-hour ride to the town of Butagota, 10 miles from the park. From Butagota, it is a four-hour hike to the park entrance at Buhoma, where accommodation and camping are available. Private cars can sometimes be hired from Butagota for $15-$25, but be prepared to bargain.

American citizens do not need a visa to visit Uganda, but a yellow-fever inoculation is mandatory and malaria prophalaxys are recommended. Check with your public health authorities for details.

Tourism revenues help support gorilla conservation in Ugandan parks, but assistance is needed to preserve habitat and stop poaching throughout their range. To contribute directly to the International Gorilla Conservation Program, call the African Wildlife Foundation (888-4-WILDLIFE) or the World Wildlife Fund (202-293-4800).