To take good care of these precious animals, five women were transferred from a local breeding base to the center and began to work as tiger keepers.

Over the past 17 years, the team has been committed to helping save the endangered species from extinction. Their efforts have been paying off -- the tiger population at the center has grown rapidly from 8 to 300.

"The team do make a difference," exclaimed Liu Xinchen, founder and director of the center.

"They have carried through this challenging mission with untiring energy and dedication, even at the risk of their lives."

The Siberian tiger (Panthera tigris altaica) is among the world's most critically endangered species, with only about 400 living in the wild in Russia's far east and China's northeast.

In the early 1980s, Liu, a wildlife expert, had called for efforts to save the endangered tigers.

Under the guide of the State Council's Endangered Species Protection Office, Liu set up the breeding center at the foot of Hinggan Mountain, a well-preserved habitat for wildlife.

Covering an area of 220,000 square meters, the center included 59 tiger houses and a 40,000-square-meter training ground.

Through training and adaptation to the natural environment, Liu hoped to restore the tigers' wild instincts, before releasing them back into nature. In order for that, Liu said, the center had to increase the tiger population using artificial reproduction technology.

First Steps

Since the tiger handlers, who used to raise animals like martens, raccoon dogs and chicken were completely inexperienced in working with tigers, they had to study from the very beginning.

They also had to overcome the fear of facing a tiger.

"At first, we had our hearts in our throat every day," recalled Ma Yamei, one of the first five tiger keepers, who has raised 50 tigers at the center over the past 17 years.

"Particularly at feeding time, the tigers became more ferocious and we could hardly help trembling when approaching them."

Once Ma had her hand scratched by a tiger during a training program. The frightening experience made her sleepless for several nights.

Due to the stress and fear at work, Ma and her colleagues more or less suffered from insomnia during the first few months.

Under the supervision of Liu, the keepers became more experienced and successfully helped the eight tigers adapt to their new home.

In 1988, seven more women joined the team of tiger keepers. Zhu Yanqiu, who once worked as a teacher in a local primary school, was one of the newcomers.

"The 15 years was filled with tears and sweat," exclaimed the 55-year-old, who retired from the job earlier this year.

"I've sacrificed a lot for the Siberian tigers."

Zhu's home was far away from the center and when it snowed, it often took her more than an hour to get to the center by bicycle.

"We have to deal with our daily job with utmost care because a minor mistake will bring serious problems to these precious lives," she said.

Because of a lack of funds, the center had neither the observation room nor appropriate equipment during its first 10 years.

When the summer -- the tiger's breeding season -- came, the work for Zhu and her colleagues would go through the roof.

They worked around the clock, observing closely the tigers who were giving birth. Very often they sat in the corridor of the tiger house for the night, accompanied by bugs and mosquitoes.

"I had spent so much time and energy on my job that I felt so sorry for my family," Zhu said.

"I was not a good wife, nor a good mother."

Zhu could hardly remember how many times she had let down her daughter.

"I owe her too much," she says.

In June 1996, the pregnant tiger Zhu was taking care of was in a critical condition.

Although she had promised her daughter to attend a parents' meeting, she decided to stay with the animal.

When she got home later that night, her daughter burst into tears and refused to talk to her. Later, Zhu found out she was the only parent who was absent from the meeting and her daughter, the top student in school, was scolded by the teacher.

But Zhu's enthusiasm and dedication to work eventually won her family's understanding. Recently, Zhu was on a high after her daughter became a postgraduate student at a university in Harbin, capital city of Heilongjiang Province.

'Tiger Mums'

Since 1993, the center has been releasing the tigers, aged above one-year-old, to the training ground during the daytime and getting them back into their houses at night -- a step to improve their ability to survive in the wild.

An observation room for cubs was built to study and control the birth of the animals.

Wang Chengqin, then 50, was known as "tiger mum" as she was the head of the unique kindergarten. Her skillful hands have saved many new lives, including that of Beibei.

Beibei was born at the training ground during the day and was not found until later that night when the keepers came to take the mother back to the tiger house. Although Beibei was struggling to live, Wang did not give up hope.

In the following month, she stayed around Beibei day and night, taking good care of the cub. When Beibei finally escaped from death a month later, Wang realized she, herself, had lost 5 kg.

In 1998, the center was in a serious crisis -- 12 cubs were infected with skin and digestive diseases.

In addition to traditional medication, Wang tried her own method: Cleaning each cub with a salt solution three times a day and massaging them from nostril to tail. Even at night, she woke up every two hours to feed the cubs.

After more than 40 days of hard work, the 12 sick cubs were all out of danger.

Now, Wang has retired and stays home to take care of her seven-year-old granddaughter. Her daughter-in-law, Wang Hongxia, has replaced Wang at the center.

Strong Bond

Over the past 17 years, 26 women have joined the team at the center, the oldest was Wang Chengqin, now 60, and youngest Ma Lina, 22, a veterinarian college graduate.

The bond between tiger and human has grown with the passing of years. The staff have given each tiger a nickname and regard the tigers as part of their family.

In early 1997, the center transferred 30 adult tigers to a training center in Harbin. All of the keepers burst into tears when saying goodbye. The love was mutual -- many of the tigers were unwilling to leave.

Guo Jianli, a writer who paid a visit to the center last summer, was impressed by the close relationship between the keepers and tigers.

"They held the cubs in their arms, like holding their own babies while basking in the sun. It was really a touching scene," Guo recalled.

With the increasing tiger population, the center has been running out of funds since 1990. Its annual expense was about 3 million yuan (US$360,000). Up until 1996, it had owed the bank 30 million yuan (US$3.6 million). When the bank refused to provide any further loans, the center was almost closed.

In spite of their meagre salary, about 350 yuan (US$42) per month, the center's staff donated their savings to buy food to feed the tigers.

When other zoos and breeding centers offered them jobs with salaries of more than 2,000 yuan (US$241), they all refused.

Finally, the local government extended a willing hand to the center. With six years of effort, the center had moved out of difficulty and was working on a new project to fulfill the harmony of wildlife protection and economic development.

"We cherish every step we have gone through and every success we have achieved over the past 17 years," Ma said.

(China Daily March 20, 2003)