All language subtitles for Trials of Life 04of12 Hunting and Escaping 720p BluRay x264 DTS GOTEi MVGroup

(L0W-PITCHED CRIES)

These great skuas...

bonxies here in Shetland,

are among the most aggressive
and ferocious of birds.

They're attacking me now

because I'm approaching one of their nests
where there are chicks,

but they are pirates that will rob other birds
of their food actually in the air

and they are also extremely skilful hunters.

They're killers.

Their hungry chicks waiting in the nest for food
make them specially determined

and they seek their prey in the huge colony
of seabirds nesting on the cliffs nearby.

Few creatures are not all their lives caught up
in duels between hunters and hunted

like these being fought out here,

duels that have shaped their bodies
and govern their daily behaviour.

The skua's tactic is to cruise so close to the cliff

that the kittiwake parents are frightened
off their nests, leaving the chicks unprotected.

The kittiwake chicks are almost full-grown

and the skuas want them
to feed to THEIR young.

(AGITATED SCREECHING)

That bird actually caught
an adult kittiwake in mid-air.

The skuas go first for the liver.

With crops stuffed full,
they will be able to feed their chicks today.

Many different kinds of birds,
having spent most of the year out at sea,

come to these cliffs in the spring to nest.

Each has its own favoured territory.

In parts where there is turf and soil,
puffins dig their nest holes.

Sitting beside them, they're relatively safe,

for if danger threatens,
they can duck inside their hole.

It's when they're in the air
that they're really vulnerable.

Here the greater black-backed gull is on patrol.

It's a huge bird, substantially bigger
than the lesser black-back.

It has a wingspan of over five feet

and the manoeuvrability of a fighter aircraft.

The puffins, whose wings and feet
also serve in swimming and diving,

are much less agile in the air.

Flying in flocks reduces an individual's risk,
but that's not always possible.

With the puffin almost swallowed,
the gull has at last got a meal.

0r has it?

The murdering robber has been robbed.

There are other animals
which spend most of their life at sea,

but come to land for a few weeks each year:
seals and sea lions.

These are South American sea lions
off the coast of Patagonia.

They can't give birth while they're swimming
as whales and dolphins do.

Instead, they have to come ashore,

and here, in dense groups,
moving awkwardly between land and sea,

they're a great temptation
to any hunter that can reach them.

Their nursery beach seems secure.

The landward side has steep cliffs.

0n the other side
the beach is protected by the sea.

But the sea itself can harbour enemies.

A killer whale, thirty feet long,
eight tons in weight.

Every year the same group of a dozen of them
assemble off the sea lion nursery to hunt.

For sea lions to venture
into deep water here is very dangerous.

It's much safer to stay in the shallows
if they can.

In one or two places, channels enable
the whales to get really close to the beach.

Those are the danger spots.

To get off the beach,
the killer has to thrash its body.

No other whale
deliberately beaches itself like this

or has perfected this method
of getting back to the sea.

As long as the sea lions stay up the beach,
you might think they'd be safe,

but the hungry whales are very daring.

Now several of the whales
are hunting in a group.

That sea lion was keeping
just ahead of one of the whales,

but was caught by another
it probably hadn't seen.

This savage beating may be
to separate hide from flesh.

But very often the successful hunter takes
its victim out to sea without even killing it.

And there, it plays with its catch
as if it were exalting in triumph.

To get all the food it needs,

a killer whale must catch
at least three sea lion pups a day.

And every day in the breeding season,

this group of skilled,
highly intelligent hunters do just that.

The Indian fishing cat hunts at night.

It's a little larger than a domestic cat,
but it feeds on all kinds of prey

from mice and rabbits to frogs and birds.

But its speciality is fish.

This pair have found an ideal opportunity,

a drying river where the fish have been
concentrated by the shrinking water into a pool.

Even so, it's not easy.

It requires stealth,
lightning reflexes, endless patience

and perfect coordination between eye and paw.

But these cats have brought
such skills to perfection.

Slugs, you might think,
are hardly a challenge to a hunter,

but few things want to hunt them.

This, however, is one: the thirst snake.

Its hunting technique is simplicity itself.

The slug's slime, which makes it
so unappetising to most predators,

provides the trail which the thirst snake follows.

But swallowing such a slimy mouthful is not easy.

The snake manages it by dislocating its lower jaw

and twisting it forward
so that it snags the slug with its teeth.

Then a yawn puts the lower jaw
back into its position.

Not all the hunted give in so easily.

Many have ways of deterring hunters
that try to make a meal of them.

An American opossum may think
this frog will make an easy mouthful.

It's quite wrong.

First, the frog inflates its lungs

so it looks as big and formidable as possible.

Then it lets off a most surprising alarm.

(L0UD WAILING SCREECH)

The whole performance is more
than enough to put off the opossum.

In Australia, dingoes too
can be put off by bluff.

A frilled lizard.

The frill is nothing but skin,

but it disconcerts the dingo long enough
to allow the lizard to make its escape.

This, however, is no bluff.

Poison is carried by all kinds of animals.

Hunters like this viper, use it to kill their prey.

And the hunted use it, too, as a deterrent.

The tomato frog, when it's threatened,
exudes a milky poison from glands in its skin

that would make any aggressor
that swallowed it very ill indeed.

The problem about having poison
as a defence is, if you're not careful,

by the time you've convinced
your attacker you're not worth eating,

it has either mauled you or killed you.

So many animals that have poison advertise
the fact long before it's necessary to use it.

Look, for example, at this little creature.

It's a spotted skunk.

Like the bigger striped skunk
that also lives in the southern USA,

its has glands beneath its tail which can squirt
a jet of liquid with a smell so appalling

that it can make you sick,
so you should treat it with caution.

Now I'm going to press my luck a bit...

It doesn't want to waste
its ammunition by squirting unnecessarily,

so it gives fair warning.

It's as eloquent a display of gymnastics
as you could imagine

with which to back up
its warning spots and stripes.

How better could you call attention
to the spray gun beneath your tail?

I'm not going to get any closer,
because I'll get sprayed.

And I don't want to risk that!

Salamanders also put on gymnastic displays
to declare that they have chemical weapons.

In their case, it's in their skin.

Having jerked convulsively
into an extraordinary contortion,

they stay there, transfixed.

Its warning colours are on its belly only,

so when danger threatens
it throws itself on its back.

And this one has its poison
in a line of sacs along its flanks,

released by the drastic method
of sticking its ribs through its skin,

tearing them open.

Some poisonous bugs carry their
''keep off'' signs like banners on their legs.

And these add an additional trick.

They keep together in a swarm.

If a bird misguidedly takes one,
it won't peck at the others

while that nasty taste
is still fresh in its mouth.

Black and yellow is a colour code for poison
that is widely understood.

It's used not only by wasps, but by salamanders
and snakes and caterpillars like this one.

Here the poison is
in the yellow spines themselves.

These long hairs are also poisonous

and the caterpillar walks around with the
confidence of one who knows he's well-armed.

But some pretend to be well-armed
when they're not.

This may look like an ant with a sting,

but the ant body is a mask,

an outgrowth from the back
of a harmless and edible plant hopper.

This little creature looks like a spider
and so does this.

In fact, both are fruit flies.

They have neither poison fangs nor stings
and they could make a good meal for a spider.

And here is a real one.

It signals with its black and white palps
and legs as it would to another spider.

And the fly responds by waving
its black and white wings in a similar way.

It's mimicking the spider ''keep away'' sign.

And it works.

Instead of being conspicuous,
you can protect yourself by doing the reverse,

by concealing yourself.

And insects are the great masters at doing this.

A stick? No, an insect.

This is its head with the front legs
stretched up beside it.

You really only have a chance
of recognising it for what it is when it walks.

A band of moss, perhaps?

No, another insect.

But lying so flat against the twig
that it seems to be almost a part of it.

0nly its antenna, lifted above the twig,

and a slight adjustment of its position,
gives the game away.

Dead leaves lie all over a forest floor,

so an insect mimicking them
can wander undetected over a wide area.

It's a kind of bush cricket.

And this insect mimics living leaves.

Its vivid green wing covers
are veined like real leaves.

Green flanges sprout from its legs.

Few of those hunted among leaves can have
a better or more elaborate concealment.

Thorn bugs. Like many bugs, they produce
excretions that are collected by ants,

and ants are one of the few creatures that seem
to know which are thorns and which are bugs.

But two can play at that game.

What could look more innocent than this orchid,

blooming in the half-light
of the Malaysian rainforest?

Its white flowers are bright
and proclaim the sweetness of its nectar,

attracting a lot of insects.

But even in such a lovely thing as this
danger can lurk.

Sitting on it, exactly matching
the colour and texture of the petals,

is a mantis.

It's facing left,
with its abdomen up on the right,

and it's waiting motionless for the butterfly.

Beside the entrance of a termite hill,

a pile of refuse tipped out from the nest
by the termite workers,

and on it, another hunter lurking in disguise.

It's an assassin bug.

It throws particles of refuse
on to its spiny body

not to conceal itself from its prey, termites,
for they're blind,

but to hide from birds and other creatures
that might eat it.

Its cloak of droppings, however,
may help to conceal it from the termites

by giving it a protective smell.

Certainly, the industrious workers are unaware
that there's an enemy there until it's too late.

Mimicry doesn't always deflect attention.
Sometimes it attracts it.

A death adder from Northern Australia.

And this could be its next meal -
a skink searching for worms.

Perhaps this is what it's looking for.

In fact, it's the tip of the death adder's tail.

That was a near miss.

Lures can also be used in defence.

A blue tit hunting for food may overlook
a hawk moth concealed by its camouflage.

But if it investigates,
then the moth suddenly exposes its hind wings.

Eyespots don't alarm this blue tit,
but they induce an attack, so the moth,

instead of getting a lethal peck on its head,
is struck on the hind wing and no damage is done.

Eyespots give this caterpillar
an almost snake-like appearance

and these tentacles which release a nasty smell
heighten that resemblance.

But could this really be an imitation
of a snake's forked tongue?

Could the caterpillar be mistaken for a snake
when it's only a couple of inches long?

We don't know and can only guess.

And this is an even greater mystery.

It's a frog, and one that like most frogs
is hunted by snakes.

The centres of these eyespots
carry poison glands,

but they could hardly have deterred the snake.

It can't see them from the front.

So just how does having a face
on its bottom protect the frog?

No one knows.

Big eyes undoubtedly attract attacks,

and as this frog has real ones, it needs
not to display them, but to conceal them.

It lives in bromeliad plants,
a favourite hunting ground for small snakes.

By reversing into the heart of the plant,
it conceals everything except the top of its head,

which is protected by a special helmet,
a bony shield.

So, many animals have developed
a multitude of techniques

for preventing other animals
from making meals of them -

high-speed sprints, jinking runs,
distraction displays, near-perfect camouflage,

even taking on disguises that make them look
as though they are hunters themselves.

But there is one animal against which
none of these techniques works,

one hunter which is invariably successful.

This one.

Beneath this log is an immense ball of ants.

Its surface is a lacy veil,

formed by individuals
clinging to one another's legs.

There are about
three quarters of a million of them.

They are army ants, and this is their bivouac.

In the morning, a raiding force of workers
escorted by bigger soldiers

leaves the bivouac.

They're almost blind,

but they follow a scent trail
laid down by scouts who are foraging ahead.

Few things are safe from them.

Not even a giant spider.

The sting of a scorpion
is useless against such tiny aggressors.

They're too small to hit and too numerous.

A wasps' nest is a major prize.

The adult wasps, even though they have
powerful stings, can't repel them,

and they watch helplessly
as their colony is pillaged.

The fat grubs are hauled from their cells,
butchered and carried off.

The bigger victims
are cut up for easier transport,

and carried back to the queen
and the workers waiting in the bivouac.

A caterpillar's camouflage didn't save it.

A ring-shaped segment from a millipede
has got caught on a spike.

In some places, the soldiers form living bridges
across which the porters run.

The bite of the jaws and the sting
in the tail of these ants is so painful

that getting close to them is almost impossible
and so studying them is very difficult indeed.

So we really know very little of what goes on
in the heart of a bivouac like this,

but this optical probe may help us find out.

The bivouac has an internal structure,

with walls made by the ants themselves
clinging together.

You have to be careful.

Even though the probe has been greased,
some soldiers manage to run up it.

Here is the nursery,
full of young, developing grubs.

After two weeks in camp,

the numerous eggs the queen
has been laying are hatching.

The grubs need feeding
and the entire army once more starts to march.

The workers carry the baby grubs.

Soldiers, huge jaws agape,
guard the sides of the route.

The army marches across new hunting grounds,
making temporary camps each night,

until, after about two weeks,
it bivouacs and repeats the whole cycle.

The most powerful hunters in the bird world
are, of course, hawks and eagles.

The Harris hawk in the deserts of New Mexico
has a particular and unusual skill.

It hunts in groups.

The team of half a dozen or so
assembles in the morning

and begins to search the countryside.

Their lookout posts are the great pillars
of the saguaro cactus.

The cacti are certainly splendidly tall,

but they don't appear to be
the most comfortable of perches.

And the prickly pear is hardly any better.

A pack rat.

In this thorny tangle, it's difficult to get
a clear sight for long enough to pounce.

Some of the hawks go down
to try and chase the rat into the open.

Since the rat is so much quicker on the ground
than they are,

they will only manage to catch it
if there are several of them.

They've lost the rat, but found bigger prey.

A cottontail rabbit.

The two on the ground chase it out.
Those perching can now get a clear sight.

0nce the kill is made, the entire team gathers
and each bird tears off a share.

0ne bird by itself is unlikely to have made
such a kill in such country as this.

Hunting together has paid off, but were
the birds working in a team with a plan?

Probably not. Individual birds
do not regularly play the same role.

Each simply reacted individually
to the movements of the rabbit

and each benefited from the fact
that its companions were doing the same.

Here in the thick forests
of the Ivory Coast in West Africa

live animals that are our closest relatives.

Chimpanzees.

A peaceful scene of jungle harmony.

(WHISPERING)
You don't normally think of them as hunters.

More as gentle vegetarians,

munching fruit and picking leaves.

But if you follow them in their true home,

these forests in West Africa,

you discover that they are hunters.

What's more, they hunt in teams,

and have a more complex strategy
than any other hunting animal,

except...

except, of course...man.

And one of the hunters,

the experienced male,

is sitting right there.

This is the time they hunt: the wet season.

Their regular prey are monkeys,
but they're very selective.

A Diana monkey, a big species,

and one they seldom tackle.

A spot-nosed monkey.

Red colobus.

They're better jumpers than chimps
and can go onto thinner branches.

So in theory a chimp can't catch them.

The only way is to work as a team,

and there are six experienced males
in this group of about sixty

who regularly do so.

This is one of them.

From his purposeful walk,
it's clear the search for prey has started.

The other members of the team
are not far away.

They've been following the monkeys
for twenty minutes,

looking for an opportunity.

The technique they'll almost certainly use

is that one of them will be driving
the colobus ahead of them.

Then there'll be others up
on either side, the blockers,

who make no attempt to catch them.

Then there are chasers,
who try to grab the monkey.

Finally, there's one male
who will go up ahead and ambush it,

so bringing the whole trap closed.

The monkeys are now getting alarmed.

A driver's going up
to prevent the group from settling

and to drive them towards an area
where they're more easily trapped.

That's one of the blockers
that's quietly come ahead of the colobus.

He's halfway up the tree now.

He's deliberately making himself conspicuous.

Now it looks like they're all in position.

The drivers and blockers have gone up,

and the one who'll make the ambush
and close the ring has gone up, too.

The colobus will be very lucky
if they escape now.

(DIN 0F SCREECHING)

They've got one!

The hunters are tearing it apart.

Everyone, the hunters in the trees and
the spectators, are screaming with excitement.

Now the kill is brought down,

so that the females and others can share it.

And there's the reward for that long chase,

the divided body of a colobus monkey.

These bloodstained faces...

..may well horrify us,

but we might also see in them

the face of our long-distant hunting ancestors.

And if we are appalled
by that mob violence and bloodlust...

we might also see in that, too, perhaps,

the origins of the teamwork
that have, in the end,

brought human beings
many of their greatest triumphs.