Original subtitles

This is the green heart of South America

the largest expanse of rainforest on the planet.

For sheer exuberance of life it's unrivalled.

Nowhere else on earth can you find so many different plants and animals.

With such infinite variety

you might think that living here was easy.

But you'd be wrong

very wrong.

Few places are as hard to survive in as the Amazon jungle.

Despite decades of deforestation

an ocean of trees still stretches almost unbroken

from the Atlantic to the foothills of the Andes.

You can fly over it for hours and see no trace of human activity.

People do live in the forest

but their numbers are tiny as low as in a desert.

For this is no tropical paradise.

In fact, the image of abundance is an illusion.

There may seem to be plenty to eat

but taking advantage of it can be an enormous challenge

and not just for people.

Anything that lives here must be supremely adapted to its chosen way of life.

Woolly monkeys live in the high canopy.

When you're moving through the treetops five limbs are better than four.

A grasping, prehensile tail acts as an extra arm

or a bridge for a baby.

And hanging by their tails leaves their hands free to gather food

from places otherwise hard to reach.

They're fruit eaters but surprisingly in a tropical forest

that's no easy option.

There may be thousands of trees but those in fruit are widely scattered.

Even if the monkeys know where to go

they often have to travel a long way between meals.

They eat just the fleshy part of the fruit.

Their jaws aren't strong enough to deal with the hard seeds

so most of those end up on the ground thirty metres or more below.

Seeds aren't the only thing they drop.

Gorging on all that fruit has a predictable end product.

Wonderfully fresh dung.

But nothing goes to waste.

Even dung is someone's bread and butter.

Before the dung has time to cool sensitive antennae pick up its smell.

For the dung beetles the race is on.

Only the winners will get a share.

In the jungle nothing edible stays around for long.

You have to grab it while you can.

The first beetles to arrive are males.

They use the dung to attract a mate.

The bigger your ball the better your chances.

The female will lay her eggs in the ball and then bury it.

It's food for the grubs when they hatch.

If you haven't got a ball of your own

you can try to steal someone else's.

Within minutes there's not a trace of dung left.

The forest looks deserted

so what has become of that infinite variety of life?

It's here, but it's hidden

camouflaged with forest greens and browns.

If you're to eat but not be eaten you must see but not be seen.

The thin layer of leaf litter on the forest floor hides

all manner of creatures that creep and crawl.

This isn't a blue worm

but a legless amphibian called a caecilian.

In the jungle things are seldom what they seem.

Some of these animals recycle the nutrients in the fallen leaves.

Others prey on the recyclers.

Theirs is a moist and dark world

where only two percent of sunlight ever reaches the ground.

This is a worm but a worm with a difference.

It can grow to a metre long.

Though most forest animals try to hide

others go out of their way to show off.

A male wire-tailed manakin trying to attract a mate.

He can't afford to miss a chance

so the slightest movement sets him off

even if it's only a passing agouti.

The agouti's eating Brazil nuts fallen from the canopy above.

They're a hard nut to crack

and agoutis are one of the few animals

with teeth strong enough to deal with them.

But being hard is only one way seeds avoid being eaten.

A tropical forest may seem like the Garden of Eden

but much of what grows here is forbidden fruit

packed with poisons like strychnine morphine and cocaine.

Even leaves are off limits.

There are plenty of them

but most are so toxic they're inedible.

Why are they so poisonous?

Plants can't run or hide to defend themselves

so they go in for chemical warfare.

Vegetarians like this white-faced saki

have to deal with poisons most creatures couldn't handle.

Plants and animals are locked in an arms race.

To counter the plant's poisons

sakis have their own secret weapon an incredibly long intestine.

These monkeys aren't much bigger than a domestic cat

but their guts are as long as a gorilla's.

They can eat leaves and seeds that would make other animals sick.

Seeds are often even more poisonous than leaves.

But with their formidable digestive powers the sakis

take them in their stride.

This one's a female

with a white moustache rather than her mate's white face.

Some leaf eaters like this piping guan

limit the amount of poison they eat by selecting young leaves,

which aren't as toxic as older ones.

But they're still dangerous

so the guan deploys another countermeasure.

It eats mud.

The mud seems to hold a strange attraction

for all sorts of other animals like spider monkeys.

These are animals of the high canopy

so why risk coming down to the ground?

Only after the most careful check do they take the plunge.

Up in the trees spider monkeys are in their element

and have few natural predators.

But down here they're vulnerable.

As the largest of all South American monkeys

they'd be a good meal for a jaguar

and catching one on the ground would be its best chance of a kill.

Something in the mud must be absolutely vital

for them to take such a risk.

One of the group is always on the lookout.

The slightest hint of danger sends the monkeys back into the trees.

But the new arrival is only a brocket deer

here for the same thing.

When they can these timid little deer eat fruit

but when it's scarce they have to make do with leaves and fungi

all potentially poisonous.

Like the monkeys it's risking its life to come here

its back still carries the scar of an attack by a big cat.

For all kinds of animal

a visit to a clay lick is a regular part of their routine.

But it has to be just the right kind of clay.

Good licks are few and far between.

Like waterholes on the African savannah

they're a focus of activity but you can never drop your guard.

When the sun comes out the lick becomes even more dangerous.

Predators are harder to spot.

Monkeys rely on their good eyesight to warn them of danger.

When it's overcast there's no problem

but the tropical sun casts deep shadows

And they find it hard to cope with the contrast.

Does that twitching leaf hide a stealthy jaguar?

Is there a puma in that shadow?

Coming to a clay lick is obviously very risky

but so many animals do it there must be a good reason.

People used to think that animals ate soil just to obtain salt.

But some of these licks are no richer in salt than their natural diet

so that's only part of the story.

Recent research shows that some kinds of clay neutralise

many of the poisons plants use to defend themselves

either by combining with them chemically

or by lining the gut with a protective coating.

That's why animals risk their lives to come here.

The alternatives are death by poisoning or starvation.

Without clay to counteract the toxins

much of what grows in the forest would be simply impossible to eat.

But why they should eat such a bellyful in one go, is still unknown.

Every rustle in the undergrowth sends the monkeys running for safety.

But it's just a herd of white-lipped peccaries.

Peccaries are social animals

using scent glands to communicate and keep the group together.

Their collective stench is overpowering.

Peccaries eat a varied diet of roots bulbs, fallen fruit and seeds.

That reduces the risk of overdosing on any one poison

but it could still be a lethal cocktail.

They seem to be seeking out just the right pieces of mud

but how they choose nobody knows.

We're only just beginning to understand

the full story behind this extraordinary behaviour.

As soon as it begins to rain all the animals depart.

Only the smell of the peccaries lingers.

The lick is now even more dangerous.

The roaring of raindrops on leaves would drown the sound of an approaching hunter.

For forest animals plant poisons are a problem to be overcome.

But forest people, like the Waorani

have turned them to their advantage.

The bark of this liana gives them curare a nerve poison.

The Waorani use it to tip their darts when they're hunting.

It kills by paralysing the chest muscles

so the victim dies of suffocation.

Without curare

the Waorani would find hunting animals like monkeys almost impossible.

It's a key to their survival in the forest.

The jungle provides all you need to live here

if you know where to find it.

The Waorani have no written language.

Vital knowledge is handed down over the generations by word of mouth.

These men are collecting kapok seeds.

The only problem is that the kapok tree is one of the tallest in the forest.

A slip would be fatal.

Shaking dislodges the fluffy seeds

but what they're really after are the unopened pods.

They're hanging from the tips of the furthest branches.

Some people use the down for stuffing mattresses.

The Waorani use it in their hunting.

They're skilful hunters

but even they step aside when the top predators arrive.

Army ants.

What they lack in size they make up for by overwhelming numbers.

An army like this can be a million strong.

These biting, stinging hordes are the scourge of the forest floor.

Anything small in their path must run fly... or die.

Measured by the weight of prey they consume

these little insects have as great an impact

on the forest as any jaguar or Waorani hunter.

But a few creatures can outwit the lethal horde.

Army ants are blind, and need movement to trigger their attack.

By keeping still, this grasshopper becomes invisible to them.

A spider's life literally hangs by a thread.

But for most small things there's no escape.

This may look like an undisciplined rabble

but in fact it's a highly organised military machine.

Ants communicate by scent sound and touch.

They come together to pass on information.

These are soldiers

but their massive jaws are defensive weapons.

The real killers are the smaller workers

which sting their prey to death.

Every morning the ants march out of camp to forage.

Columns of workers lay down scent trails for others to follow.

If a scouting party finds food

it sends chemical signals down the line to summon reinforcements.

Like any army this one has its camp followers.

Insects trying to escape the ants are flushed

into the waiting mouths of ant birds.

But it's a risky way to make a living.

As few as four ant stings can kill a small bird like this.

Ants and birds between them can clear a patch of forest floor

of almost all invertebrate life

but any empty space is soon re-colonised.

Some ant birds are totally dependent on the army to flush out prey

that would otherwise be hidden.

Without ants to help them they would become extinct.

A column of ants

can have thirty different kinds of bird following it.

There's a strict pecking order

with the most skilled professionals occupying the best vantage points.

All this activity sets the manakin off again.

At least he's courting a bird this time even if it's not his kind.

The ants dismember the paralysed bodies of their prey

and cart them back to camp.

Special long-legged 'carriers' help with the heavy haulage.

Between them

they can drag many times their own weight.

This is headquarters a living tent of ants.

The bivouac is the army's nerve centre

with the queen hidden deep inside.

Most of the time they keep on the move

but when the colony has eggs

the troops come back to the same camp each evening.

Even though night is falling animals return to the clay lick.

It's been flooded by heavy tropical rain

and bats come to drink its mineral-rich waters.

There's even a caiman here a dwarf caiman

less than a metre long.

It's much too small to worry a deer

but it would take a bat or a moth.

All sorts of hunter home in on this temporary pool

And tonight there's a special visitor.

It's the largest animal in the Amazon jungle

the size of a small cow yet it's seen more rarely than a jaguar.

With an incredible sense of smell and acute hearing

it can keep out of people's way.

Its nearest relatives are the horse and the rhinoceros.

It's a tapir.

Tapirs eat leaves and fruit

and like so many of the forest's vegetarians

they need their medicinal dose of clay.

In the jungle no chance of a meal goes to waste.

Bloodsucking ticks fasten themselves

to the soft skin around the tapir's eyes.

And it's picked up another bloodsucker something altogether more sinister.

A hitch-hiking vampire bat

taking advantage of this movable feast.

The Amazon basin gets an incredible three metres of rain a year

but pools of standing water are rare in the forest.

Most of the rain runs off

to swell the world's largest river the Amazon.

Tentacles of the mighty river reach far into the jungle.

Their banks are the setting for one of Amazonia's greatest spectacles.

Every morning

flocks of red and green macaws gather

at special places along exposed river banks.

They too have come for clay.

Macaws are specialised seed eaters.

The plants they depend on for their food

try to protect their seeds

with a hard outer coating that's often very poisonous.

The birds can remove some seed coats with their strong beaks

but their diet is still exceedingly toxic.

So like the monkeys and tapir

they neutralise the plants' defences by eating clay.

They visit these clay banks every two or three days

especially during the dry season

when there's less choice of food.

It has to be just the right kind of clay

so over the years

they mine deep shafts in the best seams.

The morning visit to the dispensary is also an opportunity to socialise.

Macaws pair for life which can be forty five years.

For the noisy youngsters

this is a chance to find a partner.

Space on the lick is limited

and while waiting their turn tempers can flare.

When they leave the river bank

the macaws break up into family parties

and fan out over the forest to search for food.

The canopy is a very different world to the cool

dark and moist forest floor.

Up on the green roof of the jungle the tropical sun is king.

This may be a rainforest

but anything that lives up here has to contend with drought.

The thick, fleshy leaves of Bromeliads are almost cactus-like.

Even in a rainforest it doesn't rain every day.

Days or even weeks can pass without so much as a shower.

Howler monkeys greet an approaching storm.

Perched on branches

bromeliads have no roots in the ground below

so they have to make the most of any water that's going.

Their waxy rosettes of leaves channel the rain into a central tank.

Some can store as much as ten litres.

Each little green aquarium supports its own web of life.

Mosquitoes lay their eggs in them

and the larvae attract predators like water beetles.

The plant benefits from the insects' waste products.

They provide nitrogen... hard to come by without roots in the soil.

When the rain stops

any moisture soon evaporates in the tropical heat.

The treetops can be more like a desert than a forest.

If a monkey needs a drink there's only one place to go.

Bromeliads are like waterholes in the desert.

These miniature oases are often the only source of water

for creatures that never go down to the ground.

Exposed to the sun

the forest canopy is a different world

one of unexpected extremes.

Birds are quick to take advantage of these swimming pools in the sky.

Bathing is more than a mere luxury.

It helps to keep their feathers in peak condition.

Each visitor seems more colourful than the last

but the paradise tanager must be the star of this parade of bathing beauties.

Sometimes the weight of all those water-filled bromeliads is just too much.

Only when their contents are emptied

can you see just how great a variety of life these little water tanks support.

A single species of bromeliad can harbour four hundred different kinds of animal.

With that many in one tiny habitat

no wonder the Amazon jungle is so rich in species.

It's a long way back to the forest canopy

but that's no problem for this climbing vine snake.

If a falling branch brings a whole world crashing to the ground

how much greater is the effect of a fallen tree.

But this is all part of a natural cycle of change and decay.

At any moment, treefalls cover ten percent of the forest.

Even before they fall

trees can be rotted away from within by fungi.

Once they're on the ground the attack intensifies.

Nowhere else in the world do things decay so rapidly.

Almost all the forest's nutrients are locked up in living tissues.

They're so scarce that fungi

and slime moulds have to grab them fast.

Incredibly

even living animals aren't safe from attack.

Insects can inhale fungal spores which then devour them from within.

For everything life in the forest is tough.

You have to seize your opportunities.

Tamarins eat almost anything they can lay their hands on.

No bigger than a squirrel

these little monkeys are one of the Amazon's supreme opportunists.

They move fast and while they prefer the lower canopy

they forage at every level in the forest

from the ground to the topmost trees.

They have a finger in every pie.

Fruit, insects almost anything is on the menu as long

as it's not too large for these agile midgets.

These golden mantled tamarins survive by being quick

and adaptable generalists.

They live in small

tightly knit groups of about half a dozen

keeping in touch by calling as they move through the forest.

The well-camouflaged rufous pottoo is a bird of the night.

It gets a rude awakening as the monkeys pass by.

And the tamarins arouse another bird.

The manakin is still looking for a mate

but a tamarin is obviously a poor substitute.

Living in a family group

means more eyes and ears to detect danger.

Their chief predators are birds of prey and ocelots

but in the forest the unexpected is never far away.

Tamarins may be small but the Waorani hunt almost anything.

This is when the kapok comes in handy

as flights for their curare-tipped darts.

That's not a tamarin

but a woolly monkey a much bigger target.

It's one of the largest monkeys in the forest

but still very hard to follow and bring down.

The chase can take hours with two

or three hunters working together.

Outwitting a fast and wary monkey more

than 30 metres up in the treetops takes years of practice

and skills handed down over generations.

They try to single out one of the monkeys from the rest of the group.

But it's a difficult target.

Separated from its companions the monkey freezes

so the hunters try to panic it into running.

It's already been hit once

and the poison is beginning to take effect.

But it often takes more than one dart to bring it down.

Eventually the monkey dies but up in the tree

so they still have to retrieve it.

The hunt may be challenging

but skilled hunters can eventually clean out a tract of forest.

Then, like the army ants they have to move on.

The tamarins escaped... this time.

For people and animals alike the forest

is a hard place to make a living.

The seeming abundance of food is an illusion.

There are no easy options.

Tamarins are jacks of all trades.

Most other forest animals are specialists.

But whatever your chosen path the competition is intense.

In the Amazon jungle there's no such thing as a free lunch.

Yet everything comes to he who waits.

The manakin finally gets his bird

He seduces her with a tickle under the chin.

The story of the Amazon jungle is one of survival against the odds.

You or I would die here

but like the manakin and the tamarins

the Waorani know how to live in the forest.

Their way of life may be vanishing

but so much else still survives.

The Amazon jungle remains the largest and the richest rainforest on earth.