Original subtitles

(gentle music)

Downloaded from YTS.MX

(gentle adventurous music)

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(lively music)

(lively music)

- [Zygmunt] This throng in the streets,

this frenzied crowd,

this is the Carnival in Rio de Janeiro,

the annual pre-Lenten madness,

the fun-making without a break

for three days and three nights.

The 2 million people of the city,

old as well as young, poor and rich,

danced to the nostalgic, mad and sensuous measures

of the Brazilian samba.

A million characters from a thousand fairytales,

A gigantic ballet who stages the entire city

and in which there are no spectators, only dancers.

(upbeat music) (crowd singing)

Thousands of make believe menacing Indians

stream into the modern streets of Rio.

(whistle whistling) (upbeat music)

Arriving in Brazil with a scientific expedition,

I find myself in the very heart of this crowd,

constantly encountering beautiful girls.

Girls intoxicated with the pulsating ever-present rhythm.

Nero is not dead after all.

He's here in Rio,

graciously joking with a muse tourists from New York.

Throughout these three days, not a soul sleeps.

Perfumed ether restores those whose tempo begins to falter.

(upbeat music) (people singing)

Here is a genuine Carioca,

the embodiment of the charm and horridness of the tropics.

(upbeat music) (people singing)

One more day of the carnival, the last,

and still new rebel is pouring.

Rain or no rain, who cares?

Let's dance.

Dance till we drop.

(upbeat music) (people singing)

Indoors, as well as on the streets, the carnival goes on.

Girls from Bahia,

like so many bouquets of exotic flowers,

exude the same voluptuous charm

which fills the streets of Rio.

They used to say, "See Naples and die."

Here we say, "See the girls of Rio and begin to live."

Together with my wife, Monica,

i sit among the joyous crowd and try to catch the spirit.

(upbeat music) (people singing)

But I must confess, my mind is not on festivities.

I'm worried whether I'm doing right

in allowing Monica and her friend

to accompany us on a dangerous expedition

to the uncharted area of the Mato Grosso jungle.

And when we drink to the success of our trip,

my mind is full of snakes,

jaguars, and poison-tipped arrows.

(upbeat music) (people singing)

Everything around us is in an uproar.

The band surpasses itself getting wilder and wilder.

After three nights of music-making,

the players cannot even pause for fear of falling asleep.

Enraptured Rio, oblivious of the world around

dances a sultry, frenzied samba,

the last samba of this carnival.

(upbeat music) (people singing)

(crowd whistling)

In the cool gray morning,

while the city's still asleep

after its three days of madness,

we arrive at the airport.

And this is our expedition team,

Andrea, Monica's friend,

whose eyes smile in anticipation of adventure.

Jeff, a young but already expert zoologist,

knows that our year-long trip will be no picnic.

Osorio, sage of the jungle, prepared for anything.

Ary, the doctor.

Let's hope we won't need his help.

Monica, whose head is still full of the sounds

of last night's samba.

And I, head of the expedition, as usual, out of breath.

In the end, everything falls on me.

(adventurous music)

And finally Bob, my assistant, always easygoing.

He never hurries, but somehow is always on time.

The die is cast.

We are off on a 2, 000 mile expedition.

We will record the way of life and rituals

of an incredibly primitive tribe of Indians

rapidly dying out.

Against our better judgment,

we take along Monica and her friend Andrea.

Monica insists because she has heard

that the Indians consider the presence of women

as a sign of peace, a protection to us all.

Goodbye, Rio.

We'll be back this time next year,

if we come back at all.

After 12 hours of flight,

we see shimmering below us the gigantic mysterious expanse

of the greatest of the world's rivers, the Amazon.

(gentle music)

That is the port of Belem.

It's hard to imagine a view more picturesque

than this old harbor.

The multicolored sails of primitive fishing craft

and the blue of the waters

prepare our eyes for the lush tones of the jungle

and are our farewell to the civilized world.

(forein music)

This is not a canal nor a flood, nor a Brazilian Venice.

It's simply the daily tide,

which was several hours,

inundates the harbor district of Belem.

Nobody minds it,

and some think it's a handy invention to clean the streets.

(forein music)

In spite of the intense heat,

there are crowds of people in the market.

We've got to buy food for several months.

Everything must be dried for preservation.

Dried meat, dried fruit,

and particularly this Brazilian specialty,

a kind of cereal called manioca.

We are going to eat it at breakfast, at lunch,

and maybe at night.

We'll never forget it.

(forein music)

All these baskets are food supply.

Practical Monica looking ahead to the dry fair

rebels in the succulent grapes.

But we prefer bananas.

(forein music)

Ab finally rouses himself to action

and goes to tell Osorio that we can start.

Osorio meanwhile has readied the boat

in which we will reach the last fishing settlements.

Father on starts the jungle

with its surprises and mysteries,

foreshadowed by this knowing smile.

A crude fishing boat carries us now

over one of the innumerable tributaries of the Amazon.

The first explorers of the far wilds of this great river

used a boat like this, driven only by the wind.

Even the simplest aids of civilization

are father and father behind us.

And before us, three weeks of slow progress up river.

Picturesque flotillas are the only break in the monotony.

(gentle upbeat music)

Finally, we reached the spot

beyond which no fishing craft can venture.

At last, a decent meal.

And pictures of the turtle who came to dinner,

a welcome food supply.

It is prepared here in 80 different ways.

Cachaca, the Brazilian whiskey,

circulates from mouth to mouth.

Now we know how fiery it feels.

The fishermen are talkative and friendly.

Let's hope the Indians will be equally pleasant.

A broiled turtle steak like this

you can't get even in Paris.

A new stage of our trip begins.

The fishermen hand us over to ferrymen.

(water burbling) (birds squawking)

We proceed along a wall of vegetation so exuberant

it looks like a great canvas

against which colors have been carelessly flung.

(bids chirping)

Now we employ a means of transportation

of which we have never heard before,

flat boats dragged by water buffalo.

(adventurous music)

One after another, strange botanical wonder.

This ocean of (indistinct) which we enter

is dry as a desert for four months.

For the following eight,

it is flooded by the water

that is covered by miles of tall grass.

This hidden water is full of unexpected hazards,

one worse than the other.

Crocodiles, snakes and swarms of small blood thirsty fish,

the man-eating piranha.

The nostalgic and unique Brazilian folk melodies

help to shorten our bizarre journey.

Thus, we go on for four days and four nights,

unable to stop anywhere.

Under us always, the unending expanse of water.

So far, no unpleasant surprises,

but we must have our guns in readiness for any event.

And the water buffaloes move on steadily without rest,

breaking through all obstacles like solid living bulldozers.

(lively music)

At last, land.

We approach a fazenda, a Brazilian farm,

a dry and lonely oasis in the midst of the watery jungle.

We can at last fulfill our overwhelming desire

to straighten out our legs.

These ranches isolated from the outside world

treat the rare arrival of visitors as a great event

to be celebrated with boundless hospitality.

(lively music)

The fazenda stands on a hill and perches on stilts

as protection from the prolonged floods.

The dry land is not always dry.

Intermittent but heavy rains

turn the entire area into sticky mud.

We rest a few days

for we are now at the jumping off place for the unknown

and for the most trying and perilous part of our adventure.

We examine the equipment and clean our weapons.

Two steps from the fazenda begins the real jungle

and its countless traps for the unweary.

(water splashing) (suspenseful music)

Ab and Osorio run into such a trap set by nature

when an underwater route overturns their light boat,

(water splashing)

(monkey crying)

Osorio must be brought ashore immediately.

Blood from his cut knee can attract a school of piranhas,

and this seemingly innocent stream could become his grave.

He cannot return on foot,

so Bob will get help from the fazenda.

Here in the midst of the jungle

blanketed by the oppressive heat,

he knows he is a live prey for a thousand beasts

and a possible victim of countless dangers.

A drop of poisonous resin may blind him.

He grips a certain branch.

His hand may at once become swollen.

The prick of the thorn of a surface root

can cause painful wounds which resist healing.

This wild and lonely place,

where every sound signals another danger,

another enemy is the green inferno.

Here are two enemies,

a small capybara and a big crocodile.

A dramatic tension in the stare of these two mortal foes.

(water splashing) (capybara squeaking)

The outcome of this unequal struggle is never in doubt.

According to the laws of the jungle,

the strong must devour the weak.

(crocodile growling)

Bob makes his stumbling way through the jungle,

impeded by the lianas strung like barbed wires

and by sharp roots.

Frightened birds start up with menacing scream.

(birds chirping)

Here is a new enemy,

the deadly and treacherous boa constrictor.

Osorio does not stir.

(gentle suspenseful music)

Any move may provoke the snake.

(gentle suspenseful music)

An iron grip at the throat paralyzes the reptile.

(suspenseful music)

Bob returns with Andrea.

They cannot know the new threat to Osorio's life.

Now is the time to use the knife.

But the big killers of the jungle do not yield.

Even though mortally wounded,

the half dead snakes still attacks.

(gentle suspenseful music)

(leaves crunching)

It was well after all

to allow the women to come on the expedition.

Andrea proves an excellent nurse.

A terrifying rumble and another danger.

"Take cover," Osorio orders.

A herd of wild buffalo is trampling everything on its way.

(hooves thumping) (water splashing)

Stampeding buffalo charge passed only a few steps away.

Bob aims at the rushing herd.

"Hold fire," yells Osorio.

"If you enrage them, we will all be trampled to death."

(hooves thumping)

One more danger happily avoided.

But for one day, that's certainly enough.

(gentle music) (birds chirping)

What a joy to get back from the depths of the green inferno

to a house and people.

Osorio's accident is only the beginning of our adventures

and the warning of what might come.

The injury to Osorio's knee will need attention,

so we'll be stranded at the fazenda for some time.

Monica plays with a beautiful and comic monkey.

All attempts to persuade the playful creature

to talk into the microphone are of no avail.

(lively music)

She doesn't intend to be a radio star.

Meanwhile, Jeff studies his capture the past few days,

hundreds of amazing Amazon butterflies,

which are the most magnificent in the world.

The number of known species goes into thousands.

There are over 400 varieties of heliconia alone.

They hover in flocks like painted clouds,

luminous with a splendid metallic sheen

and they possess a fantastic instinct for self-preservation.

The multicolored heliconia protect themselves

against enemies with repellent odor.

The owl's head imprinted on the wings

is a device against birds.

Morphos, real butterfly queens are like blue flying stars.

And here, again, the means of locomotion

irreplaceable in these parts, oxen and barges.

The entire farm at this season is on the water.

Andrea and Bob having had enough of danger

for the time being, set out on a tour of the farm

(gentle music)

(water splashing)

The vistas along the banks are not too dissimilar

to those at home,

but everything here has a special color, a special light,

and a melancholy poetry of its own.

(gentle adventurous music)

A local breed of horses tolerate philosophically

a daily bath like this.

(gentle adventurous music)

Newly captured wild buffalo are loaded here

and sent to cities down river.

This primitive loading method seems somewhat rough,

but the Amazon cowboys, the vaqueros,

maintain that the operation

is not painful to beasts with such powerful necks.

Brazilian fazendas,

some of them larger than many European countries,

live almost wholly by cattle raising.

Crop planting is impossible because of the constant floods.

Bob suggests a gallop around the farm.

He's always looking for trouble.

(hooves thumping) (leaves crunching)

Just a few steps outside the enclosure,

a jaguar who's been terrorizing the farmers

and decimating their herds.

(jaguar panting)

(gun fires)

One well aimed shot and it's all over.

But better check.

If only wounded, the jaguar might spring up

and mutilate a careless hunter.

(gentle music)

This skin will be an excellent beginning

for a collection of hunting trophies.

(gentle music)

(performer singing in foreign music)

At the farewell fiesta,

a cabacla exposes his wounded heart

in his own composition and lyrics.

"My fare beloved has gone and left me.

I have no companion in the dance,

but still I laugh and dance like mad.

Oh, faithless one, you've lost your chance."

(upbeat music)

The cabaclas, like all other Brazilians,

are in their element in their warm response

to pulsating music.

Most of our party dance barefooted,

more zestfully than do those with shoes.

These cabaclas hired seasonal laborers at the fazenda

consider themselves the real masters

of this sparsely populated country.

They're open-hearted and gay

with a proud sense of personal honor,

which is dangerous to offend.

On the faces of the cabaclas

is the heritage of the many races

which have intermingled in this country's history.

(performer singing in foreign language)

These dignified mothers certainly have Indian blood.

The band keeps playing original warm and throbbing tunes

full of the magnificent musical invention.

(upbeat music) (crowd chattering)

It is from these very songs

that the great composers of South America

derive the motifs for their works.

Coconut juice with a jigger of Brazilian brandy

is the powerful concoction customary at such parties.

(lively music)

Dessert doesn't cost anything here.

Only one has to climb to reach it.

Lively and quick,

these children already know where sweets are to be found

and how to get them.

(children giggling)

(upbeat music) (children chattering)

(lively music)

We eat barbecued buffalo meat

with our fingers along with our hosts.

We stock up on this hearty dish

to strengthen us for the main stage of our expedition.

Today we start out in three boats

into the real heart of the jungle.

(upbeat music)

From here on in, we are true explorers.

We've gathered enough information to know

that in an uncharted region of this jungle,

live Indian tribes that are a close link

to our stone age ancestors.

Our objective is not only to find them,

other people have done that,

but also to survive to tell about it.

Many of our predecessors have been murdered as intruders.

Our boat will pilot the other craft.

For several months, our nerves will have to cope

with the uninterrupted clutter of its outboard motor.

As far as the eye can see

extends the boundless expanse of the Amazon.

This is only one of its countless arms.

But even here, it merits the name, the native spirit,

Riomar, the river sea.

Below teams of fantastic invisible world of aquatic beasts,

powerful six foot fish, dolphins,

monsters with awesome jaws,

the enchanted underwater kingdom of this limitless river.

After several weeks of progress along Xingu,

a tributary of the Amazon,

we break into three separate groups.

Each on its own will seek traces of the Indians.

(adventurous music)

Already more than a thousand miles from Rio,

we may have another thousand to go before reaching our goal,

a remote tribal settlement of the northern neighbors

of the Kamayuras Indians.

For fear of such visitors as ourselves,

the Indians keep away from the river's edge

and we must penetrate deep inland to locate them.

Another unpredictable obstacle,

the sudden appearance of powerful and hazardous rapids.

(water rushing)

Shooting rapids with my wife in a clumsy boat

is not my speed.

(water rushing)

But with luck, we make it.

(water rushing)

The rest of our party follows a quieter stream,

pleasant and peaceful.

But when they hit a narrow inlet,

they discover that people here

are unwelcome guests, crocodiles.

Hundreds of them are the masters of these waters.

And again, Bob is trigger happy.

The shot too near Osorio's ear throws him off balance

Bob instinctively swims to the rescue of Andrea,

who is too paralyzed by terror to scream.

The race to the boat is speeded by the terror

of losing limbs or lives to these monsters.

(suspenseful music)

When Andrea climbs aboard, Bob comes to his senses.

Blows with the only weapon available

don't help much in scaring off these cold-blooded pursuers.

Finally, the doubtful safety of the boat.

Doubtful indeed, because now the entire narrow stirs.

It is a living lake of crocodiles, seemingly sluggish,

but always on the alert for prey.

One false move and the loathsome creature

has a chance to mangle them.

A mere blow by its tail may shatter the canoe.

(suspenseful music)

(crocodile growling)

(crocodile growling)

(crocodile growling)

Andrea shows extraordinary courage in danger.

But the crocodiles are moving in,

their numbers growing.

They're getting more enraged and more obstinate.

(crocodile growling)

(suspenseful music)

Bob's only weapon breaks into splinters.

Just a few more shards.

If they can only reach shore.

(crocodile growls)

And even here, one more aggressor.

Osorio has saved himself from the rifle.

How useful this shot would've been five minutes early.

(gun fires) (water splashes)

As we found out from Osorio,

all crocodiles are cautious in attacking unknown prey.

And thanks be to God,

these crocodiles had no contact with our species.

Meanwhile, Monica and I force our way through the jungle.

The thousands of birds now darting over us

are one of its greatest fascinations.

Birds of extravagant colors,

inexhaustible varieties of shapes and sizes.

Their voices are raised in unending songs,

calls and screeches in which thousands of discordant sounds

combine into a strange harmony.

This abandoned egg belongs to the ema,

younger cousin of the ostrich,

unhappy (indistinct) husband

whose wife desserts him immediately after laying an egg

and leaves him alone with a yet unborn offspring.

This is probably why Mr. Ema is in such bad humor.

This strangely attired fellow is the anteater,

terrifying only to ants,

actually the meekest creature under the sun.

Tremendous spiderwebs like this are deadly traps for insects

and even for smaller birds.

Millions of spiders overrun the virgin forest.

They're frightfully cunning, nimble and cruel.

Some have marvelous azure blue colors.

Or like this one, shining black,

two females fighting for a male.

There are always too few of these males for,

oh, we are sorry to say,

they're simply eaten by their wives.

Their bite may cause death even to human beings.

The quick brush off is the only treatment to give a spider.

No matter how panicky you are, you must not crush it.

The spiders poisonous secretion

can painfully burn your skin or kill you.

And now a leopard.

We are lucky that he's sated.

When hungry, he's a formidable attacker.

This skull belongs

to the strongest animal of the jungle, the buffalo,

who provides a banquet

for the forest's weakest creatures, the ants.

(bird squawking)

(bird squawking)

Trudging through the thickets and swamps

of the virgin forest,

the splendor of the birds reminds us

that it is not only a green inferno,

but also a green paradise.

This bird is like a great white flying flower.

(bird squawking)

The toucans looks as if it had only fastened on

its immense beak for a masquerade.

Hovering over the whole jungle are the parrots

of every improbable size and every extravagant color.

The parrot's screech resounding through the deep forest

is one of the jungle's most characteristic sounds.

The macaws, largest and strongest of the parrots,

display their gloriously colored wings

to awe or frighten off an attacker.

(indistinct) members of the parrot family

can camouflage themselves among the foliage.

(bright music) (birds squawking)

But the jungle also hides

thousands of other species of birds

for which, as for so many other living things,

these lie in wait, the snakes.

(bright music)

Intelligence and mutual devotion

mark the parrots from all other birds.

But like all modeled couples,

this pair has its family spat.

(bright music)

The chameleon, the most changeable of creatures.

Its mood determines the color of its skin.

(bright music)

The sloth moves so slowly that it can serve as a model

for nervous people who are eternally on the goal.

Relax, take a lesson from this philosopher of the jungle.

(bright music)

In the world of violence around him,

the poor helpless sloth

assumes the color of bark and dry leaves

as his only protection.

Suspended head downward from a branch,

but a tuft of dry grass.

This strange creature has decided

that the world is too fast for him,

and that is why this species is disappearing

from the face of the globe, slowly.

(gentle music)

Monica finds something that looks like a piece of dry wood,

but that's Sloth Jr.

(gentle music)

And again, at each step, teeming masses of snakes.

A magnificent royal heron trembles at a suspicious russell.

The armadillos are descendants of prehistoric monsters

the size of oxen.

They certainly have shrunk

in the course of the last few million years.

(gentle music)

(birds squawking)

Our constant danger, the swamps,

into which we could sink without a trace.

This beautiful red flower is a monkey's favorite food.

This stick is not a stick at all,

but an insect which mimics it to mislead birds and spiders.

(water splashing)

The tapir loves the water and is an excellent swimmer.

(birds chirping)

Tapir is very shy, very meek.

A poor cousin of the rich elephant

lacking his precious ivory tusks.

(water splashing) (birds chirping)

Black water, mysterious and ominous,

floods this forest area for eight months,

the haunt of evil spirits according to the Indians.

Worn out by heat and work with a machete,

we return to the same place from which we started.

(birds chirping)

(gentle music)

The air is so steaming that we must take a swim,

but we take care

to bathe in the rapids of this danger infested river.

But only there, the deadly piranas do not penetrate.

The rest of the group also indulge in a risky pastime,

sleeping on the ground in the very heart of the jungle.

A mysterious shadow falls on Andrea's face.

(suspenseful music)

It has happened, the most unexpected.

We've been looking for the Indians,

but it is they who have found us.

First, fright gives way to relief

when they see the smiling faces of the Indians.

But how friendly are they?

Are they killers as we have heard?

Or will the appearance of a woman

be accepted by them as proof of peace?

By sign language, they beckon them into the thicket,

but where to, and what for?

(Indian speaking in foreign language)

(gun firing)

Three shots, the signal, Indians,

or some other terrible danger.

Quick to the boat.

We must join our group.

But how to reach them?

The river branches out into dozens of arms.

No compass here is of any use.

Our speed is cut by frequent overhanging bows,

which threaten to push us off the boat

or upset our craft entirely.

We fear that we will move in circles.

Each spot looks as though we've been there a moment ago

and we feel as if some mocking spirit

is leading us into a labyrinth of awesome thickets.

The bold and cruel arania

teeming by the hundreds in these wars.

(otter squeaking)

The only place in the world

where the merciless land hunter, the leopard,

has learned to swim is here in the Amazon.

(birds chirping)

I have no idea where we are.

And suddenly the thought occurs to me

that we have reached one of those inlets that leads nowhere,

a watery dead end.

(gentle music)

Meanwhile, my companions are led away by the Indians.

They're still fearful of the type of reception

the tribe will give them.

To his confusion, Osorio cannot make himself understood

in the Kamayura tongue.

He discovers that the vocabulary of these Indians

is limited to a few (indistinct) words

whose meanings shift with their intonation.

The tribal village receives them with great excitement,

the first white people to appear in these parts.

They offer their bows,

their greatest wealth and only weapon.

This is proof of trust and friendliness.

They use mostly poisoned arrows,

but to stir jungle birds from cover,

they shoot whistling darts.

The name of this large hut we found out later is Malarka.

Apparently my companions are considered friends

for they're permitted to enter.

It is still unfinished.

The easygoing tenants count on new couples

to finish the job.

I finally reached the rest of our party and the Indians.

I speak to them in the ancient and global language of gifts,

cheap ones, I admit.

I have the strange feeling that I have gone backwards

through a time barrier,

into a period that we have already passed

by many thousands of years.

I'm in physical contact

with an actually prehistoric way of life.

This overall makeup job, besides being decorative,

served by its overpowering smell

to ward off mosquitoes and other insects,

not to mention intruders from the outside.

Our hosts escort us to the hut of the chief.

While an Indian beauty executes a gay step,

signifying a childish joy at our arrival.

The daily chores include not only cooking,

but also inspecting her husband's head.

The latter is not only a necessity

but a singular form of local coquetry.

Their bread is cassava, a poisonous root,

which is purified by several washings.

Grated into flour,

it is simply baked in the Brazilian sunshine.

This dainty served to the husband

directly from the wife's head

is a rather original manifestation of marital affection.

From early childhood.

The Indian boys even in games practice archery,

not for warfare,

but for the peaceful pursuit of spearing fish.

In this simple leisurely fashion,

the woman turn out hammock ties and bow strings.

This bridegroom to be

builds a house for himself and his future wife.

They will not live in it, however, until next year

because custom demands

that during the first year of marriage,

the bridegroom must live with

and work for his father-in-law.

What a way to spend a honeymoon.

In spite of communal housing,

matrimonial fidelity is very strict.

A most strange but prudent custom,

they never mention the name of the mother-in-law.

Here, life usually ends at 40.

The deformed people are sometimes killed

when a younger man dies prematurely.

They're considered a source of evil

causing death to the young.

Everything is not as serene and idyllic as it seems.

Bob and Andrea take a walk by the water

where the Indians have been hunting fish since morning.

They are masters in the spearing of fish.

Their arrows never miss.

Manalu is the tribal beauty.

She's the undisputed Miss Jungle.

There are so many varieties of fish here

that their names are not known.

The quiet is disturbed only by the flashings of water.

There's an atmosphere of peace and tranquility.

Everything basks in the sun.

Under the azure sky, the new Eden.

The stillness is broken by wailing sounds.

Three sturdy males hidden behind a special enclosure

move rhythmically to the sound of bamboo pipes.

This is jaqui, the ritual dance,

which no woman may see, is danced by the next of kin

to frighten away the evil spirits from one who is ill.

That morning, a young Indian succumbed suddenly

to a pulmonary sickness.

Spells are of no avail.

The young Indian dies.

With great urgency, on the very next day,

they dig the grave in the very center of the village.

This witch doctor

was vehemently against the filming of the funeral.

We shot these scenes secretly

by hiding the camera under a blanket.

The earth is scooped over with bare hands.

The dead are buried in an upright position

wrapped in the hammocks used in life.

(Indians chanting)

At the graveside, the bereft widow

and the sister of the dead man carrying a parrot

is only property which will be buried with him.

And now they're ready for a dance of many hours

to escort the deceased to the land of the spirits.

At this time, the widow's hair is cut

and she cannot remarry until it has grown in.

New makeup on the dancer's bodies

and a different design for each person.

All paints are homemade with plant colors.

(Indians chanting)

The dance ends only when the dead man

is considered to have reached the beyond.

When he has arrived among the spirits,

life returns to normal

and the Indians to their fishing and constant bathing.

Their first activity in the morning

and their last one before sunset

is a walk by the water.

The river is their main provider.

Each shot from the bow means one course

for breakfast or dinner.

The men broil and eat their own fish.

Tribal superstition has it

that he who eats fish cooked by a woman

loses his masculinity.

We never saw any of the males take this chance.

These Indians, most resemble Mongol types,

almost all are well built.

Children are tenderly loved,

but a barbaric custom dictates

the twins must be buried alive at birth

because they are gifts of the evil spirit.

At ebb tide, these butterflies suck life-giving juices

from the sandbanks.

At noontime, when it is warmest,

whole flocks of them descend on the banks.

Time and time again during the heat of the lazy day,

the Indians enter the river and bathe.

They also draw drinking water from it.

As there is no well,

our party drinks the same water and feels fine.

The river bed is the community center of the village.

Gossip is exchanged, resulting sometimes in exciting scenes

when a woman begins to beat the head of the spouse

she's discovered to be faithless.

He takes his punishment without resisting.

The wife, strangely enough,

maintains friendly relations with the woman in the case.

The whole village participates in the show.

At sundown, they regretfully leave the water

knowing that at twilight,

the river will be taken over by crocodiles and piranha.

(gentle music)

After 10 months,

I have more than enough material about Indian tribe.

It is (indistinct) set it down and return to real

before the rainy season can imprison us in the jungle.

Definitely we feel the worst is behind us,

but it's not so.

The biggest snake in the world,

the terror of the Mato Grosso, the Anaconda,

slides towards Monica.

This dread reptile is able to carry off

and crush powerful animals,

and even human beings in its monstrous coils.

(suspenseful music)

At the sight of this monster, Monica freezes with horror.

(leaves crunching)

Lightning spring

and the reptile is winding its loathsome coils

above her body.

(suspenseful music)

All I actually remember

is that in the struggle to disengage those sinuous coils,

I found myself entwined

in the 300-pound chain of crushing muscle.

It would've been an unequal struggle

except that I automatically followed the advice of Osorio.

I grabbed him at the neck glands

and squeezed with all my might to paralyze the snake.

His grip slowly weakened.

My gun finishes off

this most shocking experience of our trip.

It might have been worse than shocking

if the anacondas we discovered from his caucas

had not already been overfed with a large capybara,

and therefore sluggish and considerably less dangerous.

The Indians celebrate the killing of their enemy,

the Anaconda, with another dance,

the dance of triumph.

(Indians chattering)

New and elaborate motifs

adorn the dancer's body for the ritual.

(Indians chattering)

The males wear brilliant plumes

as dashing as the headgear of the Three Musketeers.

(Indians screaming)

Everybody lines up for the dance.

(Indians chanting)

It is composed of only a few movements,

but it is as accurately timed

as the steps of a classical ballet.

(Indians chanting)

(Indians singing in foreign language)

(Indians cheering)

(Indians chanting)

The accompaniment is the monotonous,

but very rhythmical chant of the women.

(Indians chanting)

Children from their earliest years

are initiated into the tribal ceremonies.

The hoops and pounding steps

express the pride and triumphal feelings of the Indians.

(Indians chanting)

The women holding their children

Start the marvura vua, the dance of survival.

It is the simplest of dances

consisting of one step endlessly repeated.

This is the ritual of supplication to the good spirits

for the preservation of the tribe,

which they believe originated

from the beautiful neighboring trees.

It is now that they give us

the greatest proof of their faith

by inviting Andrea to join

in this most important of ceremonies.

She has become a favorite of the whole village.

The chief's son was so taken by the charms of Andrea

that he was willing to commit a misalliance and marry her.

We were only able to escape this honor

by explaining that she could not take this step

without her father's consent.

(Indians chanting)

But the spirits do not respond

to the rituals of supplication.

For this is a dying tribe,

year by year, the numbers (indistinct).

Only here can we see the human family

living in the utter simplicity that our first parents knew,

in a garden similarly troubled by serpents.

We have done what we could

to record the customs and way of life

of these so clearly doomed to extinction,

taught by an impassable and pathless jungle

from today's world.

We did everything to gain their confidence.

As we did not offend them,

we were able to avoid the fate

of the members of those earlier expeditions

who never returned from this deep jungle and remain behind

forever apart of its mystery.

(Indians chanting)

The last memory of our stay among the Indians

is another ritual dance,

not to placate her good spirits,

but to frighten away the evil ones,

the spirits of the powerful, magnificent,

but boundlessly cruel jungle.

Not only primitive Indians,

but civilized people in our own great modern cities

break into the dance to express their joy

or to mark religious festivals.

After precisely a year in the jungle,

we return to find Rio dancing again in the Carnival

that precedes the Lenten season.

(upbeat music)

I dance with Monica in that crowd

to the rhythm of the samba.

And though no one knows it,

it is our own dance of triumph and joy

that we've been able to carry through our daring project,

that we have challenged the mysteries of the jungle,

that we've penetrated many secrets

and emerged with a record of them.

This is also our dance of survival,

but we have faced the many dangers of the Amazon

and survived them all.

Music reverberates plaintively, madly.

Art and spirits dance to the rhythm

of new inebriating tunes.

More dazzling costumes join the traditional ones.

(upbeat music)

(crowd singing in foreign language)

Amid the sound, the frenzy and whirling color,

they come to my mind the colors and sounds of the jungle,

the incredibly bright birds,

and the incandescent butterflies,

the lush foliage of the virgin forest

and the screams of the parrots.

(lively music)

And while Monica gives herself completely to the fun,

filled with the joy of return to her safe world,

I feel as has many before me

the overpowering urge to return

at least once more to the far Amazon jungle.

(lively music)