Uncharted - The Beautiful World of the Amazon | Free Documentary Nature

The Amazon rainforest. The planet's impenetrable green sea. Within these remote depths runs the Las Piedras River, which forms part of the longest tributary to the Amazon. In the jungle surrounding the headwaters of the river, life remains much as it has done for thousands of years. Giants like these form a dense canopy, shutting out the lights on those who dwell below. But within these dark halls, life can be found in such extraordinary abundance that only a fraction of its members have been counted. And this is with good reason. Because survival below the treetops is often to remain hidden. And for much of her life, this creature will remain so, curled up amongst dense tangles of vegetation, and rarely moving during the day. Her local name is Osito Oro, which means tiny golden bear. But while she might be both tiny and golden, she is certainly not a bear. She is a silky anteater. But don't let appearances fool you. The claws on her front feet can inflict serious wounds on anything that might try to harm her. They are her only defense when she leaves her hiding places in search of food. She's sniffing out her prey, and being an anteater, this consists of ants and termites. But in order to find them, she has to overcome the considerable challenge of staying awake. Once she's mustered up the strength to focus on the task at hand, she finds a termite nest, and decides that it isn't quite the kind she's looking for. Keeping up appearances is important too, and a good grooming regime is sure to please a mate. But we still don't know how silky anteaters manage to find each other in such a vast wilderness. In fact, nobody knows much about them at all. But not all animals avoid predation by hiding away in those hard-to-reach places. Many hide in plain sight. At this scale, nothing is quite what it seems. Down to the finest detail, these insects are masters of camouflage. Leaf-mimicking katydids copy the vein structures of the leaves that they live on. Some stick insects even mimic the particular species of moss and lichen that tend to grow from their favorite trees. Some, like this arachnid, are predators, and others will become prey. But all are striving to remain undetected. While many animals avoid predators and catch prey by copying the designs of others, these moths have an entirely different strategy. They hide amongst the hairs of sloths and can't be found anywhere else. The sloth's dense hair supports a variety of algae that help it to blend in with the surrounding jungle. And they move so slowly and infrequently that they're rarely spotted by predators. In fact, three-toed sloths spend between 15 and 20 hours of each day fast asleep. Their leafy diet is simply too poor in calories to keep them going for much longer. The perfect place for moths to make a permanent home. But hiding away and living the solitary life isn't the only way to stay safe in the jungle. Sometimes, sticking together can work just as well. The tip of this young tree is just soft enough for the probing mouthparts of these treehoppers to break through and feed on the sap that runs through its veins. Aside from a thin shell, the treehoppers are completely defenseless. For protection, they forge an unlikely alliance. These ants are their defenders, and they're paid for their services. Luckily for the treehoppers, their honeydew, or sugary excrement, is a sufficient reward. The ants keep the treehoppers free of mites with specialized cleaning mouthparts. But in this jungle, there's always a little more happening than first meets the eye. There are actually two kinds of treehoppers here, and one is up to no good. Those with darker shells rarely produce the liquid that feeds their ant protectors, but they want to stay clean all the same. So when they detect an ant ready to clean a lighter-colored treehopper, they simply climb on top and prevent the ant from feeding until they're clean. But they're not the only ones up to no good. Smaller ant species that can't offer the treehoppers any services in return are on the lookout for an unguarded treehopper and an easy meal. Each day, billions of these tiny leafcutter ants embark on a journey, migrating through the forest along miniature highways. The daily commute is coordinated through a powerful yet invisible chemical messaging system. However, the journey to work can be a hazardous one, and falling leaves often create traffic problems. But these ants are prepared for almost anything. Specialized workers are deployed to remove the blockades. It only takes a handful of ants a few hours to clear a full coating of leaves from the forest floor. The workers are all heading for a harvesting tree. They're after its leaves, but to get them, they must scale a height comparable to a human scaling the highest mountain in North America. Soon after hitting the summit, they begin to remove segments from the tree's leaves using jaws that vibrate thousands of times per second. Then, they must embark on the 100-meter journey back to the nest. Despite the distance, the whole commute only takes each ant about an hour. Efficiency is key. And once the jaws of workers have been removed, they'll carry the leaves cut by their little sisters instead. At the surface, their home doesn't look like much, but below lies an underground labyrinth of tunnels stretching eight meters beneath the forest floor, home to a colony with as many members as the city of London. Here in the bowels of the earth, they store their precious leaves and meticulously tend to fungus gardens that sprout from the decomposing vegetation. The tiny, white, rounded, fruiting bodies of the fungus are used to feed the entire colony. Far from the darkness of the forest floor, the rainforest canopy is bathed in intense tropical sun. This is the engine room of the jungle, where giant trees capture sunlight to fuel their growth. Except for the snaking waters of the Las Piedras River, these rainforest treetops stretch unbroken for hundreds of miles. Here in this skyward realm exists the greatest diversity of life in the rainforest, and so on earth itself. The calls of red howler monkeys travel from miles across the treetops and stake a group's claim to a small patch of trees, where they will socialize and feed on young leaves. Troops of brown capuchin monkeys will range far throughout the forest and will eat almost anything they can get their hands on, whether it's flowers, insects, fruit, or even small mammals. The capuchins are often tailed by hundreds of smaller squirrel monkeys, who will pick up whatever they leave behind. This unlikely alliance was forged to reduce the risk that a single individual will be picked off by an eagle. The largest of the monkeys here are the spider monkeys, and they are constantly on the move. They follow well-trodden routes that track the shortest distance between fruiting trees. During times of plenty, as many as 100 individuals can be found traveling together for a short time. When small groups meet, new friends are made, and new groups are formed. When food is plentiful, spider monkeys will select the best bits from each fruit and drop the rest. But it rarely goes to waste, as peccaries that roam the forest floor will consume much of what's been dropped. To balance off their diet, collared peccaries seek out special places from which to feed. The thick mud in this hole contains unusually high concentrations of salt, a rare treat so far from the sea. Small mineral licks like this one are dotted throughout the forest, and for many animals, they're like miniature oases in a nutrient-poor desert. Throughout the day, a variety of visitors come and go. Some, like this red brocket deer, are particularly wary, as they know that jaguars hunt here too. Spix's guans spend most of the day close by the lick, and occasionally venture down to pluck insects from the clay walls. But at the slightest sign of danger, they'll sound the alarm and let others know that it's time for them to leave. The erosive force of the Las Piedras River has gradually unearthed a salty deposit on its bank. This is the last remains of an ancient ocean that dried up many millions of years ago. Macaws flock here from tens of miles around. They gather in the trees and wait for a brave individual to fly down to the lick and reassure them that the area is free from predators. Once a few make it down safely, the rest decide to follow. Not only does eating the clay provide salt, but it also helps to neutralize the toxic chemicals found in many of the unripe fruits in the macaw diet. For the macaws, these visits to the local clay lick are more than just feeding opportunities. They're places where mates can be found and disputes can be settled. It's nesting season, and high in the branches of a Chihuahua tree, two macaw parents have enlarged a natural hollow. Inside is a hungry chick, who now, after several months of confinement, is beginning to survey the world outside. For now, his mother and father must deliver his daily dose of clay, but in a few weeks' time, he'll be ready to fly the nest and follow his parents. For other animals, it simply isn't possible to carve salt from the earth, but they require it just the same. Like the macaws, these butterflies spend much of their time high in the canopy, but every now and again, they too must descend. The butterflies congregate on damp earth at the banks of a lake, where the waters have receded and deposited salts and other nutrients behind them. But for butterflies, life in the rainforest can be hazardous at best. Golden orb spiders are goliaths, but so too are blue morpho butterflies. The spider approaches with caution, wary of the butterfly's powerful wings. But butterflies this large don't stay stuck for long. While spiders may pose a nuisance to some, there's one animal here who's been actively seeking them out. This hummingbird is making her first nest, strung together with spider silk and hung from the tip of a leaf. On each trip, she can carry a single blade of grass or a tangled strand of spider silk. It takes her weeks to finish. She must remain constantly vigilant, as other hummingbirds may try to take an empty nest for themselves. Once she's ready, she lays a single white egg, smaller than a fingernail. She may seem exposed, but her nest is positioned so far from the palm's stem that only the lightest predator could attack it without falling to the ground. A week later, a tiny hatchling has emerged. Now she must work twice as hard as she's feeding for two. But the dry season is coming to an end. Her work will soon be put to the test, and her chick's life will depend on it. The temperature has been rising for days, and the air has become saturated with moisture. The creatures of the rainforest can feel it. The rainforest isn't called the rainforest for nothing. In the Amazon, storms hit with a fury like few other places on Earth. The nest is rocked by wind and hammered by rain. The chick must cling to the fibers that his mother so carefully arranged. Dawn sees the end of the downpour, but the storm's effects can still be felt. The mother hummingbird returns to find her chick gone and the nest empty. In her distress, she checks for him over and over. He may have survived, but having been blown from the nest during the night, he's now alone in the rainforest. He doesn't yet know how to find food for himself, so she must find him quickly, or else he will starve. Their calls to each other sound out across the forest. And the two are reunited, once again. The rains have brought new growth to the jungle, but they have also brought destruction. The Las Piedras River is bursting its banks. Entire trees are carried away with the current. The swelling river surges through the forest. For those too small to outpace the flood, the only way is upwards. Every available inch becomes saturated with life. Strange forms are forced from the darkness. The search for escape is constant. In such crowded conditions, predators are spoiled for choice. Isolated on their treetop arks, it could be weeks before the river recedes and the creatures of the forest touch solid ground once again. Many were too slow to escape the rising water. Surface tension will keep millipedes afloat for a short time, but if they begin to struggle, their legs break through. Attempts at escape only serve to seal their doom. The arteries of the jungle are now springing back to life. As the waters continue to rise, many creatures once isolated in pools and lakes are now free to move about the jungle. Fish are searching for a safe place to lay their eggs, and predators are ready to cut them off. A new chorus is sounding through the depths. A family of giant river otters, seven strong, are also here to take advantage of the fish to be found in the swelling streams. And just as well, because this family has three hungry cubs to provide for. But with so many mouths to feed, the otters can't stay in the streams forever and must move on to places of greater abundance. They spend most of their time in vast lakes hidden deep in the forest. Half of giant otter cubs don't make it through their first year, but these are the lucky ones. They have made it past a crucial stage in their lives when they're most vulnerable to predators. Nevertheless, they're still young enough to get away with stealing a fish from mom rather than hunting it for themselves. The cubs' jaws still aren't strong enough to dispatch a fish quickly, so they have to keep a careful grip. Sometimes, a live one can be a little startling. Other animals stay close behind the otters and pick up their scraps, but they aren't welcome everywhere. With full bellies, there's plenty of time for play. In a few months, the cubs will reach their adult size at two meters long. But for now, they must still be careful not to stray too far from their parents, for these waters are home to another top predator. Male black caiman are highly territorial, and this five-meter-long individual is a new arrival at the lake. The current resident, a smaller male, is well aware and arches his back as a signal of his claim. The new, much bigger male responds in kind, showing that he won't back off so easily. As the caiman move in, they size each other up. But the smaller resident male wisely backs off, and the intruder succeeds in claiming these hunting grounds for himself. Some of these rainforest lakes are many hundreds of years old, but gradually, vast mats of floating vegetation begin to choke the surface, the lake bottom grows shallower as it's filled with dead leaves, and the forest moves in to reclaim the land. For now, this lake is a haven for wildlife of all kinds. These prehistoric-looking hawatsins find safety on the perches at the edge of the lake, where the predators of the forest floor struggle to reach them. Snakebirds can be found here too. While a low buoyancy submerges their body while swimming at the surface, it also enables them to dive down and spearfish underwater more easily. Prime feeding grounds are often fiercely contested. For many animals, the daily downpours of the rainy season provide a welcome break from the stifling heat of the dry months. But for some, they pose peculiar problems. The water has risen, and the butterflies that once fed on the mud banks at the lake's edge must now look elsewhere for a meal. They may have to wait, but they know just the place to get it. Side-necked turtles, who currently have entirely different agendas. There is nothing quite like a good scratch. Or better yet, a good stretch. In the rainy season, young turtles must make the most of the brief spells of sun. A good sunbathing log is hard to come by, so they rarely get it to themselves for long. Despite there being ample room for many turtles on the log, a big male won't tolerate his view being obstructed by a smaller one. In turtle society, size is everything. When the turtles are more evenly matched, log relations are more respectful. But as a consequence, they often tend to pile up. Life on the log is a process of constant nudging and shuffling. Once the turtles have settled, the butterflies can move in. The butterflies lap up the salty turtle tears. But the turtles aren't sad. The tears clean their eyes after a dip in the water. The butterflies don't actually consume the tears they collect. They save them. These butterflies are all males, and they will pass the tiny bundles of turtle tear salt to the females during mating. For the turtles, butterflies are just about bearable. But bees aren't tolerated too well. It seems that turtle relations in the water are not so different from those on the log. The coming of the rainy season signifies the return of another species, a species so ingenious that like no other, it has the power to shape the rainforest in its own image. What natural processes take centuries to build, people can undo in a matter of minutes. Be careful. Once the rats are completed, the wood must be taken to the edge of the rainforest. But at that edge, the world is changing. As Las Piedras Rainforest is burnt to make way for farmland, a part of our sense of wonder in the world goes with it. For animals in this rainforest, millions of years have been spent finding ways to cooperate, ways to compete, and ways to survive. Yet these efforts pale in comparison to such a force. Nothing in nature could have prepared them for this. The clock is ticking for those mysteries that still remain hidden within the trees, because such wild places could soon be worlds of fiction.