All language subtitles for Wild South America 5 Amazon Jungle

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.