A bold warning emerges from a troubling mystery: endangered “galaxy frogs” have vanished, seemingly killed by photographers who trampled their delicate homes for a shot. The species in question, Melanobatrachus indicus, is tiny—about the size of a finger—and represents the sole member of its family. It inhabits the moist rainforests under fallen logs in Kerala, India. Those striking, galaxy-like spots aren’t a sign of poison. Rather, researchers suggest they function as a form of communication among these secretive frogs, based on insights from Rajkumar K P, a fellow with the Zoological Society of London.
The story begins in early 2020, when Rajkumar located seven individuals in the Western Ghats rainforest. But the Covid-19 lockdown prevented follow-up visits. When he returned, the frogs had vanished, and the habitat they relied on appeared destroyed, according to a report from ZSL. He described a once-sturdy log ecosystem that was now broken and displaced, with vegetation trampled and the frogs’ homes ruined.
Initially, he considered brown mongooses as a possible culprit, only to realize they didn’t have the strength to overturn a log. A key break came when his tracker mentioned that a few photographers had been at the site, followed by other trackers who revealed broader details of what had happened. The photographers were moving logs aside in search of the endangered frogs, then capturing them for photographs and placing them on mossy logs or other backgrounds to improve their shots. Crucially, they did not wear gloves, even though these amphibians breathe through their skin and are extremely sensitive to touch.
One tracker relayed that two small galaxy frogs died after being handled for too long by photographers. He described photographers relocating the animals to different locations to secure the perfect image. On a single day, five or six frogs were captured, with two dying in the process.
Repeated searches over the ensuing months yielded no sightings of the galaxy frogs. Rajkumar says he felt utterly powerless in the face of what he perceived as a grave injustice. Foresters and park authorities sometimes try to prevent such groups from visiting, but he notes that powerful people—politicians or influential figures—can be exploited to obtain access for photographing, undermining conservation efforts.
For Rajkumar, the frogs left a deep impression. They appear jet-black at first glance, but under light their skin reveals countless star-like specks—an effect that makes them feel almost magical. He expresses heartbreak at what happened and a longing to protect them.
Dr. Benjamin Tapley, curator of reptiles and amphibians at ZSL, frames the galaxy frogs as an ancient and irreplaceable line in the tree of life. He admits a twinge of disgust whenever a galaxy frog photo surfaces online, prompting him to question how such images are obtained and what damage to habitat may have occurred.
Yet there is a hopeful note: the scientific and conservation communities are rallying to promote ethical photography practices that respect these extraordinary creatures. The overarching goal is to ensure that species like the galaxy frog can endure for countless generations to come, thriving in their forest homes rather than falling victim to human curiosity.
