This is the best place on the planet to search for Bengal tigers

It’s dark when my butler Parvez brings me coffee and cinnamon buns and I reluctantly haul myself out of my four-poster bed. Amith Bangre, my wildlife guide, waits in the foyer of Jaagir Manor, and we pile sleepily into an open-topped vehicle. We’re heading out to look for tigers in Dudhwa National Park: a wilderness of dense forest and open grassland in Uttar Pradesh, part of the Terai ecosystem that stretches 700 miles along the India-Nepal border. The Lower Himalayan air is cold and biting, and I burrow deeper into my woollen poncho, watching the outlines of farmsteads and sugarcane appear as murky shapes in the dawn.

“There’s two ways we track tigers,” says Amith, as watery sunshine penetrates the sal tree forest, casting a starburst light on our surroundings. “First, we look for pawprints, because tigers move through the forest on sandy tracks, and then we listen for the alarm calls of animals like langur monkeys.” It’s a fresh pawprint, perfectly formed and surrounded by morning dew, that sends my pulse racing. “There’s one close by,” whispers Amith. We linger for a while, yet the tigers of Terai are mercurial.

We inspect a tree with deep-furrowed gouges raking the bark and I subconsciously look from shoulder to shoulder to be sure we have no feline company. “It’s a big male,” surmises Amith. “He’s letting potential rivals know this is his territory.”

Big male or not, in typical catlike fashion he’s likely dozing in the undergrowth, and despite scouring the shadows, nothing stirs. Elsewhere, however, the forest crackles with life. Thick-furred langurs seem scarcely to need the threat of a tiger to kick up their simian din, while eagles screech overhead and unseen critters scurry through dry leaves carpeting the forest floor. Particularly special is the lack of other safari vehicles; we see almost none for the whole day. “See a tiger in Ranthambore and there will be twenty vehicles around it,” says Amith.

We plan our next tiger foray back at Jaagir, where I live a princely existence. The white-painted manor is pure art deco, built and used by British governors as a jungle lodge in the 1940s. Corinthian columns lining the driveway point towards cosy indulgence, with the flamboyance of an eccentric millionaire aunt.

My heritage suite, one of seven, is an original room with a Victorian ambience and a gramophone. I gravitate to the colonial-style Safari Club lounge with its pool table and bar, where I sip a whisky and club soda in front of a crackling fire, before heading to the Pavilion dining room. The head chef’s thali could sink a battleship, and I regret my gluttonous over-indulgence at high tea that afternoon, where the cucumber sandwiches come with crusts removed de rigueur.

As my tiger quest continues, I accrue ever-burgeoning sightings of endangered species. Dudhwa National Park is a fabulous wetland expanse of swamps and rivers. Barking deer bound across our path, sloth bears amble adorably from bush to bush and langurs in the tree tops above are, I suspect, crying wolf. Their whooping triggers prove fruitless, and I take out my frustration on a packed wicker hamper of parathas stuffed with aloo gobi, served on white linen napkins on the Land Rover bonnet, before a wondrous afternoon on the river spotting rare river dolphins and slender-snouted crocodiles called gharials. “There’s only around 250 gharials left now because of human impacts,” says Amith sadly.

On our final foray into the reserve, the pesky langurs are at it again. But Amith rolls the dice and seeks out their commotion. We park at a crossroads. The forest around us is truly agitated, and wails reverberate through the canopy. “Look,” says Amith, in a hoarse whisper, “there she is, a female.” Calm and completely unafraid, the exquisite feline appears from the trees. She’s more orange than I expected, the colour of hot embers, and she walks alongside the vehicle without so much as changing her stride. We watch in silent awe, before, with a flick of her tail, she blends back into the shadows. The langurs quieten, but I squeal with excitement all the way back to Jaagir.

Three more wildlife to spot:

1. Leopards of Rajasthan
Amid the stony, billion-year old granite hills, a leopard’s growl carries far on the hot winds. Jawai Bandh in Rajasthan is home to a healthy contingent of these elegant cats, who exist alongside the Rabari herdsmen. Blending seamlessly into the landscape, Suján Jawai is a camp of ten tented suites in a green oasis, part of the family-owned luxury Suján group. Guest revenues from its camps have donated over £1.5 million to Indian conservation over the past decade. For something really special, the Royal Panthera Suite is set apart from the other tents, with its own heated swimming pool, a private butler and 4WD for leopard safaris, and a separate dining tent with a lounge.

How to do it: Suján Jawai tented suites start from £800 per night based on two sharing, including all meals, wilderness drives and transfers.

2. Rhinos of Assam
A slow day cruising by riverboat down India’s mighty Brahmaputra River with a cup of Assam tea in hand can suddenly become a lot more exciting. Elephants come to the riverbank to drink, river dolphins surface and tigers are never far. From an air-conditioned cabin on the RV Sukapha, guests can witness more wildlife here than anywhere else in India. Besides a dazzling array of birds, the highlight has to be Kaziranga National Park, home to the greatest concentration of one-horned Indian rhinoceros. Come evening, after a day watching wildlife, guests and guides retire to the dark-wood library-bar for a species count — and a cocktail, too.

How to do it: Naturetrek’s 14-day holiday with 11 nights on the Brahmaputra costs £4,495 per person based on two sharing, including flights.

3. Lions of Gujarat
Slightly smaller and with sparser manes than their African counterparts, Gujarat’s Asiatic lions inhabit the mature teak forests of Sasan Gir National Park. They once roamed in Greece and the Arabian Peninsula, yet hunting has reduced numbers to around 700, and all are found in the 100sq mile park. It’s a privilege, then, to see them on twice-daily safaris from Aramness Gir, a luxurious haveli with 18 suites. Created by conservationist and wildlife photographer Jimmy Patel, the five-star property has been inspired by Gujarati villages. After a safari or jungle bushwalk, guests can enjoy an ayurvedic spa or a fresh mango juice harvested from the on-site gardens.

How to do it: Aramness Gir is best visited from October to February, and costs from £950 per night on an all-inclusive basis, based on two sharing.