Japanese Serow

MammalJapan

Sep 12

Written By Alexander Julius Jensen

Capricornis crispus

Often described as ghostly, the elusive Japanese serow lives in the wooded mountains of central and southern Japan. Typically solitary, it stands on rocky outcrops, staring down at the landscape for extended periods — likely watching for predators or rivals. It can be active both day and night.

The Grey Ghost of Japan

Japan is a land of ghosts — the vengeful Oiwa, the snowy-pale Yuki-onna, the counting and wailing Okiku. But these are ghosts of folklore and stories. The real ghosts live in Japan's mountainous forests. They wander alone, both day and night, but slip past human eyes. Their shaggy coats of frosty grey fur allow them to shapeshift, to merge with mountains and trees, disguising themselves as dark snow, bare rock, or withered plants. Persistence and great patience guarantee no sighting of these forest phantoms, for these ghosts have greater patience still. Their world moves at a different, much slower pace. They amble unhurriedly on four hoofed feet, their gait awkward but steady. They move above human villages, scaling sheer stone walls without fear, surefooted as any creature can be. At the tops of rocky outcrops, they stand for hours, unmoving and resolute, staring down at the landscape below with horizontal, rectangular pupils.

These grey ghosts are known as Japanese serows; goat-like creatures endemic to Japan — found on the three main islands of Honshu, Kyushu, and Shikoku, but mainly concentrated in the central mountains of Honshu. A Japanese serow stands around 65 cm (2 ft) at the shoulder and measures 130 cm (4.3 ft) from head to rear. Males and females look much alike. The serow's snout is elongated and delicate, terminating in a prominent black nose. Scent glands shaped like sorrowful tears lie below each of its yellow-brown eyes. Two short, sharp-pointed horns jut from its head — growing to about 14 cm (5.5 in) long — and curve backwards, patterned in ridges that indicate age like the rings of a tree. A grey beard of fur grows beneath its chin and neck, giving even the young a wizened appearance. Two large, leaf-shaped ears flank the horns and endow the serow with sensitive hearing.

A Phantom Vigil

Many a wildlife admirer would be tempted to seek out this aloof and bizarre creature. It would not be an easy task. It would take a pilgrimage into the Japanese wilderness, in a country that is 73% mountainous. The serow lives from 500 metres (1,640 ft), in the montane belt, to 2,700 metres (8,860 ft) in the frigid alpine zone. It roams the shaded mountain forests during both the day and the night, browsing on grasses, leaves, and fallen acorns. In winter, its diet becomes a meagre fare of buds and tree bark. In spring and summer, it eats fruits and flowers if they can be found. As you'd expect from an ungulate, it leaves behind cloven-hooved tracks. Its wedge-shaped toes are splayed wide to give it great grip on rock and loose soil, leaving behind deep distinctive prints in snow or dirt.

If you're lucky, you might glimpse the Japanese serow standing on a towering rocky outpost. It can probably see you too, for its vision is sharp; able to spot movement far in the distance and function in low light. It often stands at its station for long stretches of time, watching the world below it go by. But its task is likely that of lookout; to survey the land for predators and rivals.

The Japanese wolf (*Canis lupus hodophilax*), a subspecies of the grey wolf, went extinct by the the early 20th century.

Nowadays, its predators are few. Japanese black bears — resident on Honshu and Shikoku in numbers ranging from 10,000 to over 40,000 — pose an occasional danger, but they're not the highly predatory type. Perhaps the serows are haunted by their own ghosts, by the violent memories of generations past, when merciless predators hunted and serows were slaughtered, and so they still stand a staunch vigil. Wolves once hunted the forests of Japan; two subspecies of the grey that ranged from Hokkaido in the north to Kyushu in the south. They were exterminated from the serow's range in the early 1900s, and none are left alive anywhere in the country today. But the serows of Japan faced a much deadlier threat, one that would almost wipe them from existence; humans.

Serow’s Plight

Once, the Japanese serow was plentiful, like the sika deer that live in Japan's forests and bow to guests in Nara park — not quite as plentiful, given that the estimated population of sika deer today exceeds 3 million ¹. Serows used to roam the lowland forest, grazing on the verdant foliage that grew around foothills and along valleys. That was before Homo sapiens spread widely throughout Japan, before our populations increased dramatically, and before the advent of commercial forestry. In most places, the lowland forests are no longer suitable habitats for serows — either too disturbed by human activity or simply just gone. Evicted from their Eden, the serows climbed, migrating to higher altitudes, to colder climates and scanter food. And the more land that people altered or took, the higher the serows had to climb, to ever more impoverished lands. Perhaps that is why they now move so languidly, especially during the winter, to conserve what meagre energy they do get from chewing buds and bark.

But the scant habitat left to the serow is still invaded by rambunctious and unwanted guests. As winter turns to spring and the heavy snows melt, animals from the lowlands trek up into the hills to scavenge and browse on new lands. The sika deer, which are presently so numerous, now pose a threat to the serows. The deer are social, often living and moving in herds. Come winter's end, some of these herds make their way into serow territory. The deer are not malicious. This isn't some hostile takeover — it's likely that the deer aren't even aware the serows exist. It isn't even about resources, as the food of the serow and deer don't much overlap, since the deer are primarily grazers while the serows are browsers. But the serows are as introverted as they come, with undisturbed space being of extreme importance to them. The parties of deer clutter the once tranquil forests. They grunt, and whistle, and bark. The serows cannot tolerate their presence and so retreat to poorer, but more private places.

Such poor conditions can only support a population so large — one that is not very large at all. On top of this, these peaceful mountain browsers were killed and persecuted. Hunters would slay them for their meat and fur while farmers and foresters simply wanted rid of them — because the impertinent serows dared to eat crops and chew bark from planted saplings, in lands that were once their home. With snares and pits, with steel and guns, the serows were massacred. The Japanese serows were almost exterminated. They were pushed to the edge of extinction. But, hardy and sure-footed, the serow did not tumble into that chasm. The species was declared a ‘Natural Monument’ in 1934, granting the Japanese serow much-needed protection. Although some killing and conflict go on to this day — its meat and fur are still occasionally used and it's listed as a pest in certain localities — the serow's recovery was inspiring. Currently listed as a species of 'Least Concern' by the IUCN, there are estimated to be some 100,000 serows in Japan today.

A Shy Social Life

This is undoubtedly good for the species but for the intensely private, and typically solitary serow, it means more contact with others of its kind and more competition. The Japanese serow is territorial. The size of a territory corresponds with the availability of food — higher altitudes with less abundant vegetation necessitates a larger territory. Serows communicate by the most indirect method possible; through scent marks, left like signposts throughout a territory. The serow's preorbital (below the eye) scent glands secrete a scented substance, which is rubbed on foliage as the serow browses — communicating with other serows through scattered "tears".

For a wandering serow, the message left behind is twofold. If the territory belongs to a serow of the same sex, a hasty retreat would be smart, or else risk a deadly confrontation. Intruders are usually chased off but there have been instances of males dueling one another, sometimes to the death. The territories of opposite sexes, however, often overlap. To a female, the scent of a male serow in rut, between September to November, can be an invitation to breed. This season is the exception to the serow's typical "isolation policy". Some males are known to mate with two or three females in a season. But many serow couples are monogamous, remaining together from one year's breeding season to another, sharing their love only between themselves. However, this is less romantic than it appears. If a male is ousted from his territory, the residing female will go on to breed with the conquering male — she is seemingly married to the territory, not to the male.

Between one and three young are born in May or June and they stay with their mum for about a year. Soon afterwards, they become independent but remain in their mother's territory. At two to four years old, the serows may leave their mother entirely to seek their own territories. But the females may remain indefinitely, as serow territory can be passed down matrilineally, from mother to daughter. The life of a serow can last into its twentieth year and beyond.

Seeking the Japanese Serow

Say you were serious about catching a sight of this ‘grey ghost’. Ask around and you'll probably be directed to Yaen-koen or Jigokudani, national parks in the Nagano Prefecture in Central Japan. While a solo trek could yield an encounter with a serow — given enough perseverance and luck — a guided tour, while more pricey, would raise the chances significantly. The Picchio Wildlife Research Center does tours around the country. One of their centres is located in the town of Karuizawa, in the midst of the Japanese Alps. From here, you can embark on a seven-and-a-half-hour tour in search of the elusive serow, and given the track record of previous tours, your chances of seeing one approach 100%.

What Is a Serow, Exactly?

In Japanese, this serow is known as the kamoshika (氈鹿), literally translating to "coarse pelt deer". The etymology is a bit misleading, however, for the serow is not very closely related to the antlered ungulates. Its scientific name, Capricornis crispus, means something close to "goat with curly hair". While this is closer to the truth, the serow is not quite a goat either. It does belong to the same family — Bovidae, containing cattle, antelope, sheep and goats — and is more closely related to sheep and goats rather than cattle. In a bid to describe them, serows are sometimes called "goat-antelope", but really, they are their own unique lineage. Unheard of by many people, serows make up the genus Capricornis, which contains four species. One is the now familiar grey ghost of Japan. It's cousins don't live too far away.

From top to bottom; Taiwan serow (*Capricornis swinhoei*), mainland serow (*Capricornis sumatraensis*), and red serow (*Capricornis rubidus*).

To the northwest of Japan, straddled by the East and West China Seas, is the island of Taiwan. Like the Japanese serow, the Taiwan serow (Capricornis swinhoei) is an endemic island species. It is the smallest of the serows. Rather than the pale, ghostly grey pelage of the Japanese, the Taiwan serow wears a warmer coat of brown — sometimes reddish — fur and displays light spots below its jaw and along its throat. It too is an elusive wanderer of wooded mountains, with strong climbing skills and the ability to leap over two metres (6.6 ft) into the air. It's even been observed climbing trees. It may look less spectral than the Japanese serow, but spotting this furry horned creature, standing steady on four cloven feet among the branches of a tree, would surely be a bit uncanny.

On the mainland, lives the wide-ranging and appropriately named mainland serow (Capricornis sumatraensis). It can be found just across the Taiwan Strait in southern China, extending into the country's central regions, down south through much of Southeast Asia, all the way to the Indonesian island of Sumatra, and west into the Himalayas of Nepal and northern India. Given its great diaspora, its appearance differs depending on the population, but its coat is typically the darkest of the serows; with dark grey or black pelage. A distinct mane runs from between its horns to its upper back. Of all the serows, it looks the most fierce, but it's still shy like the rest and is known to emit a high-pitched screech when it feels alarmed — a defensive trait it shares with the Taiwan serow.

The last serow is the most enigmatic. Found along the border between Bangladesh and Myanmar, the red serow (Capricornis rubidus) has a reddish-brown coat with white undersides — it resembles the red goral, a small goat-relative that lives nearby. The red serow leads a discreet life; sheltering below overhangs and within caves throughout the tropical forests of its region. Unfortunately, it doesn't escape human influence. Considered a 'vulnerable' species by the IUCN and 'endangered' in Bangladesh, it is the most imperilled of the serows and the least studied.

Travelling from the lofty heights of the Himalayas to the rainforests of Bangladesh and Southeast Asia, crossing by boat to hike the hills of Taiwan, then setting sail to explore Japan's haunted wilderness — it is the fortunate and dedicated naturalist that can claim to have seen every one of these shy mountain wanderers.

¹ One of the contributing factors to the explosion of sika deer is a lack of natural predators — a result of the Japanese wolf’s extinction. Perhaps the most famous case of just such a relationship occurred in Yellowstone National Park in the U.S. The wolves were intentionally wiped out from the park by 1926, resulting in an explosion in deer numbers. Only later was this widely recognised as a bad move. The overabundant deer changed the composition of the environment; grazing on tree saplings and preventing them from growing. Because of excessive numbers, individual deer also suffered from a lack of resources and illness. The first wolves were reintroduced to the park in 1995.

**Where Does It Live?**

⛰️ Mountainous forests.
📍 Japan; on the islands of Honshu, Kyushu, and Shikoku.

‘Least Concern’ as of 11 February, 2020.

IUCN

Size // Medium
Length // 65 cm (2.1 ft) at the shoulder, 130 cm (4.3 ft) from head to rear
Weight // 30 - 45 kg (66 - 99 lbs)
Activity: Diurnal and Nocturnal ☀️/🌙
Lifestyle: Solitary 👤
Lifespan: 20+ years
Diet: Herbivore
Favourite Food: Grasses and leaves 🌿
Class: Mammalia
Order: Artiodactyla
Family: Bovidae
Genus: Capricornis
Species: C. crispus

The Japanese serow is usually solitary and antisocial. It communicates with other serows via scent markings, rubbed onto leaves from tear-shaped scent glands below each of its eyes.
In the past, these serows were more plentiful throughout the lowlands of Japan. But as human populations spread and grew, deforesting land as they went, the serows retreated to higher and higher ground.
As spring arrives and snow melts, the super-abundant sika deer of Japan make their way up the mountains. They travel in herds — grunting, whistling, and barking — moving into the serows' territories. The serows, naturally very reserved, are too disturbed by the bustle of the deer and must retreat to poorer, but more private places.
The Japanese serow can be active both day and night — technically called 'cathemeral', meaning it is active at irregular intervals.
The serow's usual diet is made up of grasses, leaves and fallen acorns. During summer, it eats fallen fruit and blossoming flowers, while in winter, its fare is more meagre; consisting of buds and bark.
When a serow stands watch from on high, it's likely watching out for rival serows. Its predators are sparse; the Asian black bear isn't really the predatory type (mostly eating a vegetarian diet) and the grey wolves that once hunted in Japan have been extinct since the early 1900s — perhaps an instinctual memory of wolves lingers in the serow's mind.
A more recent predator of the serow was humans. Hunted for meat and fur, and killed by defensive farmers, the Japanese serow was nearly pushed to extinction.
This species was finally granted some protection when it became a 'Natural Monument' in 1934. Currently listed as a species of 'least concern', there are estimated to be some 100,000 serows in Japan today.
The territories of male and female serows often overlap. Sometimes a couple will form a monogamous pair, staying together from one breeding season to the next. But, if a male is ousted from his territory, the residing female will go on to breed with the conquering male — she is seemingly married to the territory, not to the specific male.
In Japanese, this serow is known as the kamoshika (氈鹿), literally translating to "coarse pelt deer".
The serow features in an odd idiom that goes 'Kamoshika no yo no ashi', translating to 'legs like a serow'. Apparently, it is a flattering phrase used to compliment a lady's legs — a little strange since those of the serow are stout, thick, and hairy.
The serow, despite its Japanese name, is not closely related to deer but is a member of a unique lineage in the Bovidae family (containing cattle, antelope, sheep and goats). The three other serow species are the Taiwan (or Formosan) serow, the mainland serow, and the red serow.