National Geographic: Spitting Mad - Wild Camel of the Andes (1997) Movie Script
In remote corners of South America
lives a feisty animal,
the elegant camel-like guanaco.
You've got to be taught to survive here,
especially if you're a male guanaco.
In the southern Andes Mountains,
fierce blizzards and crippling cold
threaten to freeze you to death.
Then there are killer cats.
This is the home of the mountain lion
known here by the Inca name, puma.
It's strong and powerful predator.
If the puma does kill you,
a long list of animals
will gladly dine on your remains
from little gray foxes
to giant Andean condors.
And you can't even trust your own kind.
If the cold or the cats don't kill you,
rivals for your territory will
certainly try.
But without a territory,
you can't get a female to breed.
So a male guanaco's life
is filled with conflict.
Supremacy is the objective,
physical violence the method,
females the prize.
So if you're a male guanaco,
tough isn't enough.
You also have to be spitting mad.
Born of volcanic fire,
carved by ice and wind,
the famous granite towers of Paine
are the crowning glory of the world's
longest mountain chain-the Andes.
This is Southern Chile's Torres del
Paine National Park
only a thousand miles from
the ice-cap of Antarctica.
And just over the mountains
is the Pacific Ocean
a birthplace of storms.
So this land is battered by some
of the fiercest winds on earth.
To survive here,
you need to be a very special animal
one that is adaptable,
well-organized, alert,
and above all tough the guanaco.
And they certainly are well adapted
having thick, soft coats
for protection against the cold.
Wild ancestors of the
domesticated Ilama,
their fleece was much admired
by the Inca civilization,
providing warmth and wealth.
But a warm coat is not enough.
A male guanaco
starts adult life homeless and alone,
and to by successful,
he has to win a territory and breed.
So he must communicate
with potential mates-and rivals.
A raised tail and lowered ears
mean aggression.
And the elaborate language
makes intentions clear.
The ear flagging, the spitting,
the raucous screams
means a battle for territory
is in the making.
The war dance confirms
they will fight.
And the final exchange of insults
starts the conflict.
With battle lines drawn,
they try to intimidate each other
with a show of strength.
If that doesn't work,
it's grid - iron mayhem.
These fierce fights are dangerous
and could lead to broken bones
- even death.
But in the world of the guanaco,
territory is everything.
The rival must be driven
right out of the territory.
The males are fighting
for this prime real estate,
a lush area with ample food and water.
And by winning this territory,
the victor is able to attract females
an absolute necessity
if he's to breed successfully.
His aggressive defense
means the females of his family group
can feed without hassle
from other males.
Guanacos graze carefully,
and their soft,
cloven hooves minimize damage
to the delicate turf.
These is safety in numbers, too
- many pairs of eyes and ears
provide protection from predators,
and in this landscape,
predators can hide almost anywhere.
The male deeps a sharp lookout
for danger
- especially pumas,
the guanacos worst nightmare.
Pumas are a serious threat to survival
and often stalk lake edges
for thirsty guanacos.
They are powerful predators,
six feet of lethal muscle,
capable of pulling down
prey eight times their weight.
But a fully grown guanaco
is a difficult sharp-eyed target.
If they're seen,
pumas won't waste energy
with further hunting.
And guanacos sound the alarm
with a far-reaching cry.
These powerful cats spend most of
their days grooming and resting
in preparation
for nights of hunting...
...and she'll need plenty of rest.
For spring is the busy season
in the southern Andes,
a time of movement
and great migrations.
And she hunts an inspiring wilderness,
the Torres del Paine National Park,
home to the Andean condor.
One of the world's largest birds,
the condor's ten-foot wing span
looks big even
in this mighty landscape,
as they cruise the wild skies
in search of carrion.
Spring is the time
when guanacos give birth.
So still-born calves or after-births
will be a welcome source of food.
Young guanacos called chulengos
are vulnerable.
And because there is safety in numbers,
females synchronize births.
Over about two weeks,
nearly 500 chulengos will be born.
So when one mother does it,
they must all do it.
It is no wonder that spring is
considered the high season
in these wild mountains,
and the young guanacos are eager
to become part of the celebration.
The most precocious chulengos
are walking and nursing
within half an hour.
And they must all become mobile
as soon as their young legs
will carry them-and quickly
- for the danger of puma attack
is never far away,
the cats watching from some lofty crag
with hungry eyes.
But even big cats don't have it easy.
Guanaco family groups gather
in areas where there
is less cover for pumas on the prowl.
And even chulengos are
deceptively quick on their feet.
Fast or not, they are in mortal danger,
for they are the pumas favorite prey.
Even where there is little cover,
pumas are masters of invisibility,
stalking their intended victims
by using hollows in the ground.
Many chulengos die in their first year,
but now is the most dangerous time
of their lives,
especially if they leave
the relative safety
of their mother's side.
Life is a constant battle
between the puma's stealth
and the guanaco's sharp eyes.
In this case, the eyes win.
Guanaco numbers can be seriously
reduced by pumas.
But to truly understand the way
guanacos live and die
requires knowledge.
And to get it,
you have to catch the chulengos.
Dr. Bill Franklin and his helpers
have been studying guanacos since 1976,
and with so many years experience
behind him,
he knows this mother is
being difficult-and dangerous.
This angry female has made it clear
that her chulengo
is not going to become
a part of Bill's scientific data.
But Bill also notices something else
about the female.
Not only is she very aggressive,
she is also rather fat.
So he leaves her to
regain her composure in peace,
but instructs one of his students to
watch her from a distance.
It soon becomes obvious that this.
Particular guanaco
is a very special mother.
She is about to give birth again,
though she already has a chulengo
barely three hours old.
Only once in 20 years
has Bill observed guanaco twins.
But now he has another opportunity
to study this extraordinary event again.
The first born chulengo
seems a bit confused
by this staggering addition
to the family.
During the coming months,
scientists will closely
observe the twins
as they face the dual threats
of bad weather and puma attack.
But for the study to have meaning,
single chulengos must be
collared and tagged as well.
The fleet-footed youngsters
must be brought to ground.
But sometimes,
the only contact is the ground.
When they're just a few hours old,
chulengos are easier to catch
and can be handled
with a minimum of stress
to both mother and chulengo.
Wild though they are,
guanacos see scientists
almost every day
and are at ease in their presence.
For two decades,
Bill Franklin has given
dozens of students
the privilege of studying
one of the most interesting animals
on earth,
and he is the world's leading authority
on these-toughest of survivors.
Tagging the chulengos
allows their habits and movements
to be observed and recorded.
And while its mother
looks on anxiously,
her chulengo is weighed and examined.
Much can be learned,
for the health of this chulengo
may be a reflection
of the health of the region
in which it lives.
The chulengos are fitted with
radio transmitters
so their life-and-death struggles
can be followed.
In this way,
Bill has discovered that guanacos
may live as long as 12 years,
but only if they survive
the first year.
The chulengos will be closely guarded
by its mother for the whole year.
But despite this protection,
up to 80 percent of the year's
offspring might be taken by pumas.
Separated from its mother,
a chulengo is confused and in danger,
so Bill is anxious to
return it quickly.
In fact, chulengos will readily become
attached to humans
when they're very young.
And only when they see and smell
their mother again
will the bond be retied.
And Bill watches to ensure this
takes place.
To see the two together again
is a heartening moment,
and mother and chulengo
soon rejoin their family group.
Once all are together again,
the dedicated scientific
work of following
each collared chulengo's struggles
can begin.
Summer and winter,
Bill's students take to the hilltops
to check on the whereabouts
of the chulengos.
The receiver distinguishes
between each collared youngster
and also register
if there is lively movement or not.
So a scientist is able to tell
if a chulengo is alive or dead.
If a mortality signal is received,
the body must be found
and the cause of death determined.
This chulengo was killed by a puma,
for the big cats cover their kills
to hide them from scavengers.
The puma will return to eat its meal
under the cover of darkness.
The cats hunt mostly at night,
so evening is the time to wake up.
And with pumas on the prowl,
night is the guanacos' time
of greatest danger.
Do they have a strategy
for staying alive they move house.
Night's aren't entirely friendly
to pumas either.
A mother with cubs may be ambushed
by a male puma
from a neighboring territory,
so she delays leading her cubs
out of the den
until the light is fading,
and will be careful
as she guides them to the kill.
As night falls,
guanacos climb to the tops
of bare hills,
and the strategy makes sense:
There's less cover up here,
which means that even in darkness,
pumas will have difficulty approaching
without being seen.
The mothers will ensure
that their chulengos are close by
and the male will keep watch
from the edge of the family group.
Staying alive at night
is far more perilous than daylight,
for guanacos need moonlight to see,
while pumas have sharp vision,
even on the darkest nights.
But they still take the precaution
of dragging their meal into thick cover.
This is a tough task,
for the guanaco carcass
may outweigh her
by as much as 200 pounds.
But she must struggle on,
for thick cover
provides a safer place
for her cubs to feed.
The family shares the food amicably,
with the youngsters getting first bite.
And once they fill their bellies,
the cubs can indulge
in some late night revelry.
No doubt this play
helps develop muscles
and hunting skills,
but they also seem to be
just enjoying themselves.
Their mother must recover the carcass,
for it will feed them
all for at least two more nights.
At the first hint of dawn,
the female leads her cubs
back to the den,
barking instructions
to hurry them along.
It's important they are back
in a safe place by daylight,
and the sun is rising fast.
Once the pumas are back at their dens,
the guanacos come back downhill
to the food-rich meadows
they abandon at night.
Joining them is a wealth of wildlife
that floods into the park
during the spring and summer.
Many wildfowl breed here,
including graceful black-necked swans
and the chest-patting ruddy duck.
There is food for all,
especially guanacos.
And though summer is a time for plenty,
the park lies in the wildest extremity
of South America.
And the weather cannot
be taken for granted.
Guanacos must take good care
of their soft woolen coats.
So dust bathing is a daily ritual.
Keeping them in tip-top condition
could mean the difference
between life and death.
For even in summer,
icy winds and snow
can blast down from the mountains.
Winds of 100 miles an hour
have been recorded here.
And driven by these raging winds,
freezing snow showers
can be a killer.
When the weather has
been particularly brutal,
the undertakers of the air
are never far away.
Most chulengos are born around midday.
For those that are born late
have little chance
during hostile summer storms.
And once hypothermia sets in,
death follows quickly.
There is nothing
the distressed mother can do.
The condors will hang on the wind
until a chulengo is still.
But its mother is hesitant
about defend it.
Perhaps she's intimidated
by the condor's impressive bulk.
Only when the condors
begin eating her dead offspring
does she muster enough courage
to chase them away.
Her defense is in vain.
Gray foxes scavenge dead meat, too,
and their hunger
makes them aggressive.
Though some of the meat
will be eaten now,
it is vital to store
some of the scraps for use
in harder times.
So these caches of meat
are hidden underground.
In the dead of winter,
they'll return for
their long-buried meal-
if they can find it.
Summer can be an easy time for foxes.
And like most predators,
their cubs are raised
on the misfortune of others
not just dead chulengos and
the remains of puma kills,
but eggs, birds,
and lots of beetles.
Foxes can raise up to
five cubs each summer.
And though puma-killed guanacos
are an important source of food,
pumas also kill foxes.
So it's best to keep out of sight.
Killing isn't always
a big cat's priority.
Eating a guanaco on
a hot summer's day
is thirsty work.
So she had to abandon the carcass
to find much needed water.
The killer cat
is watched by many eyes.
The crested caracara
is another scavenger
that looks to the puma for leftovers,
and it already has the chulengo
carcass in its sights.
With the foxes frightened off
by the puma,
it too can benefit
from the chulengo's death.
Nothing is wasted
in this hungry land.
As with all birds of prey,
the caracara's hooked beak
and sharp claws
enable it to rip
meat off the tough carcass.
The caracara also has a family to feed,
so scraps are taken back to its nest.
Two chicks are the norm,
but conditions are so harsh
in these wind-swept mountains
that food is difficult to find.
So in most nests,
only one chick will survive.
Life is tough in the mountains.
And the short summer
is a vital time
in the lives of local animals.
Guanacos are no exception.
It's breeding time,
a male guanaco's most
challenging time of year.
The females in his family group
are now in breeding condition,
and the territory-holding male
has a job to do.
He must not only sniff
out those females
that are ready to mate
he must also ensure
that other males are kept out.
With aggressively lowered head,
he dashes around,
marking his territory
by adding to dung piles
scattered around the real
estate he calls his own.
Each pellet contains his scent
and announces ownership
to other nosy males.
Only he is allowed
to use these territorial markers,
so if another male has
the nerve to drop
dung on one of his piles,
it is a serious insult.
This intruding male must be
driven out of the territory
before it can get access
to the females.
But, as he's determined to stay,
the manure really hits the fan.
These battles for females
can be exhausting,
the combatants galloping for miles
across the hills.
With the landlord away at war...
...other males may try to mate
with his females.]
And while the cat's away...
But it's important
that everyone does mate
during the same few days.
And every male wants a
slice of the action.
But some young guys
never get the footwork right.
When the territory owner returns,
the young guy could be beaten to death,
but only if he gets caught.
The landlord means business,
so the cheating youngster
is literally running for his life.
The outcome of such a battle
is often worse than broken bones.
If a puma spots his injury,
he could make an easy meal.
If the young guy is
to stand a chance of surviving,
he needs a place to hide.
And fortunately for him,
guanaco society provides
just such a sanctuary...
...a sort of bachelor's club
between the family territories
where dispossessed males can gather.
And if he finds one of these areas
before a puma gets him,
he will be allowed to join
without having to fight for his place.
He is still not safe from puma attack.
But many pairs of eyes
give greater security
while his wounds heal.
The other members are males
who've lost territories
or young males evicted
from family groups.
And apart from eating,
the most important activity is play.
It is here that young males
learn the language
and ritual of combat.
They engage in playful
bouts of sparring
to win status in the hierarchy.
But as they get older,
they develop the strength and skills
for serious fights.
Most members will go through
two or three years
of cheerful neck chewing
before fights become serious.
And by then,
the mature males
are ready to leave the group
and try to win a territory
of their own.
But they may have to wander the hills
alone and homeless for months on end.
And other big changes
are in the air, too.
Nights are growing colder.
Autumn mists fill the valleys.
Life is getting harder.
Tougher conditions mean family groups
join together to wander
in search of food...
...much to the annoyance
of the territorial males
whose backyards they invade.
With autumn's glorious colors
in full bloom,
the herds move around even more,
forcing the pumas to track them during the day
so they can hunt hem
during the night.
Like the guanacos,
pumas also hold territories
as much as 60 square miles
for a female like this,
but often larger for a male.
Guanaco real estate
is divided into much smaller areas.
So the national park feeds
about 2,500 guanacos,
and they in turn
feed about 25 pumas.
But all this is about to change.
Real hardship is about to strike.
Winter is sweeping down
from the mountains.
Death travels with the wind.
Blizzards and deep snow
make survival increasingly difficult.
Most of the birds have fled.
Almost everything else
has to move, too.
Guanacos, foxes, pumas
- all search desperately for food.
And in their search,
the guanacos' hooves
leave a scent trail,
making it easy
for the pumas to follow.
In the guanaco's mass exodus
from their summer range,
the migrating family groups
coalesce into large herds
and the pumas must stay close,
both mother and cubs.
Survival hangs in the balance
for both predator and prey.
But the guanacos
are forced to migrate
through unfamiliar terrain,
so the pumas have the advantage.
And, if they are skillful,
they can maneuver
into a position of ambush.
To add to their problems,
the guanacos have to
migrate into areas
where conditions
seem particularly bad.
But this is one
of nature's classic contradictions:
it is here that fierce mountain winds
below some of the snow
off grass and shrubs,
making it easier
for guanacos to feed.
But starvation is always a threat.
If severe weather persists,
It can take a heavy toll,
to the benefit of the little gray foxes.
If they have already exhausted
their buried supplies of meat,
they are relegated to
digging for frozen insects.
But they don't ignore
the threat from pumas,
it's quite the opposite.
The foxes actually trail the cats,
Waiting for them to provide
a larger meal.
And they may be lucky.
Condors also monitor the guanaco herds.
For this is an easy time for scavengers
as well as killer cats.
Weakened by hunger,
guanacos can be easy prey.
And the puma
has killed one on the cliff
and dragged it down
into the valley below.
She has partially covered it with snow,
but with the threat of thieves
from above,
she must cover the carcass
more carefully.
Huge front paws
shovel snow effectively,
but an even better deterrent
against the condors and foxes
is her presence,
and that of her waiting cubs.
The cats can be seen easily
in the snow,
so the hungry cubs will have to wait
until nightfall to enjoy their meal.
For they're still at risk
from other hungry cats
That could be hiding nearby.
So once the female has covered the carcass,
They will all gather nearby
to stand guard.
But deep snow
makes traveling difficult,
even with the benefit
of outsized paws.
With meat stored in the freezer,
the puma family's immediate future
is assured...
the guanacos' future, too.
For winter's last full moon
is waning.
As the sun releases winter's icy
grip on the land,
the guanacos hurry back
to their summer territories.
The males reestablish their ownership
of prime real estate,
and once again
they turn their attention to females
to their lust meadows.
And with spring at hand,
the park becomes a mecca for wildlife.
The year has come full circle.
Large flocks of upland geese
and their fluffy chicks
join the guanacos.
And within a few weeks,
females will drop the
next generation of chulengos
into a glorious carpet of flowers.
Burgeoning vegetation
means there should be plenty to eat,
but last year's chulengos eat more
as they grow larger,
and each family group
has a limited feeding territory.
Over-population can lead to hardship
and starvation,
but guanacos have a solution
to this problem, too.
The adult males drive off all of
last year's offspring.
This is a dramatic
turn of events for the yearlings.
And they're reluctant to leave home,
signaling appeasement
to the male
with a forward-curved tail.
But even if the male gets the message,
he must press home the attack.
The future of his whole family group
depends on his ruthless aggression.
In a desperate attempt to stay
in the family group,
the yearling circles back around.
But the more he tries to stay,
the more determined the male becomes.
And this could have
disastrous consequences.
An injured yearling
is in serious danger.
If he's unable to find his way
to the security of a male group,
its fate is all but sealed.
The puma cubs are now nearly grown now,
and have formidable appetites.
So their mother must
increase her hunting.
There is little chance for
an injured yearling.
For the cubs are bolder now,
Investigating their territory
with enthusiasm
and no longer waiting for nightfall to eat.
The cub's mother tries to
encourage them away from the kill,
but one hungry youngster
is reluctant to obey.
Future generations of guanacos
will have to remain alert
when these cubs
become experienced hunters.
With the big cats at a safe distance,
condors and caracaras
can once again take advantage
of the guanacos'
presence here-foxes, too.
In fact, the guanacos life and death
Is the essential pivot
upon which all life is poised.
For their competitive social system
has evolved because it makes maximum
use of the land with minimal damage.
Guanacos are now protected in Chile
and are holding their own.
But in many ways,
they protect themselves.
With so many lone males
waiting for a chance
to win a territory,
it's almost certain that
only the strongest males
will get to breed.
Their future and that of all guanacos
depends on the survival of the fittest.
Their battles are a crucial part
of the never-ending cycle of life
in the southern Andes.
So the fights for territory
must continue,
however dangerous and exhausting.
For the land to sustain life,
there have to be winners and losers.
And it is essential
that the winners are so tough.
For even in this windy,
unforgiving land,
their vitality helps all guanacos
to survive,
to thrive and prosper.
lives a feisty animal,
the elegant camel-like guanaco.
You've got to be taught to survive here,
especially if you're a male guanaco.
In the southern Andes Mountains,
fierce blizzards and crippling cold
threaten to freeze you to death.
Then there are killer cats.
This is the home of the mountain lion
known here by the Inca name, puma.
It's strong and powerful predator.
If the puma does kill you,
a long list of animals
will gladly dine on your remains
from little gray foxes
to giant Andean condors.
And you can't even trust your own kind.
If the cold or the cats don't kill you,
rivals for your territory will
certainly try.
But without a territory,
you can't get a female to breed.
So a male guanaco's life
is filled with conflict.
Supremacy is the objective,
physical violence the method,
females the prize.
So if you're a male guanaco,
tough isn't enough.
You also have to be spitting mad.
Born of volcanic fire,
carved by ice and wind,
the famous granite towers of Paine
are the crowning glory of the world's
longest mountain chain-the Andes.
This is Southern Chile's Torres del
Paine National Park
only a thousand miles from
the ice-cap of Antarctica.
And just over the mountains
is the Pacific Ocean
a birthplace of storms.
So this land is battered by some
of the fiercest winds on earth.
To survive here,
you need to be a very special animal
one that is adaptable,
well-organized, alert,
and above all tough the guanaco.
And they certainly are well adapted
having thick, soft coats
for protection against the cold.
Wild ancestors of the
domesticated Ilama,
their fleece was much admired
by the Inca civilization,
providing warmth and wealth.
But a warm coat is not enough.
A male guanaco
starts adult life homeless and alone,
and to by successful,
he has to win a territory and breed.
So he must communicate
with potential mates-and rivals.
A raised tail and lowered ears
mean aggression.
And the elaborate language
makes intentions clear.
The ear flagging, the spitting,
the raucous screams
means a battle for territory
is in the making.
The war dance confirms
they will fight.
And the final exchange of insults
starts the conflict.
With battle lines drawn,
they try to intimidate each other
with a show of strength.
If that doesn't work,
it's grid - iron mayhem.
These fierce fights are dangerous
and could lead to broken bones
- even death.
But in the world of the guanaco,
territory is everything.
The rival must be driven
right out of the territory.
The males are fighting
for this prime real estate,
a lush area with ample food and water.
And by winning this territory,
the victor is able to attract females
an absolute necessity
if he's to breed successfully.
His aggressive defense
means the females of his family group
can feed without hassle
from other males.
Guanacos graze carefully,
and their soft,
cloven hooves minimize damage
to the delicate turf.
These is safety in numbers, too
- many pairs of eyes and ears
provide protection from predators,
and in this landscape,
predators can hide almost anywhere.
The male deeps a sharp lookout
for danger
- especially pumas,
the guanacos worst nightmare.
Pumas are a serious threat to survival
and often stalk lake edges
for thirsty guanacos.
They are powerful predators,
six feet of lethal muscle,
capable of pulling down
prey eight times their weight.
But a fully grown guanaco
is a difficult sharp-eyed target.
If they're seen,
pumas won't waste energy
with further hunting.
And guanacos sound the alarm
with a far-reaching cry.
These powerful cats spend most of
their days grooming and resting
in preparation
for nights of hunting...
...and she'll need plenty of rest.
For spring is the busy season
in the southern Andes,
a time of movement
and great migrations.
And she hunts an inspiring wilderness,
the Torres del Paine National Park,
home to the Andean condor.
One of the world's largest birds,
the condor's ten-foot wing span
looks big even
in this mighty landscape,
as they cruise the wild skies
in search of carrion.
Spring is the time
when guanacos give birth.
So still-born calves or after-births
will be a welcome source of food.
Young guanacos called chulengos
are vulnerable.
And because there is safety in numbers,
females synchronize births.
Over about two weeks,
nearly 500 chulengos will be born.
So when one mother does it,
they must all do it.
It is no wonder that spring is
considered the high season
in these wild mountains,
and the young guanacos are eager
to become part of the celebration.
The most precocious chulengos
are walking and nursing
within half an hour.
And they must all become mobile
as soon as their young legs
will carry them-and quickly
- for the danger of puma attack
is never far away,
the cats watching from some lofty crag
with hungry eyes.
But even big cats don't have it easy.
Guanaco family groups gather
in areas where there
is less cover for pumas on the prowl.
And even chulengos are
deceptively quick on their feet.
Fast or not, they are in mortal danger,
for they are the pumas favorite prey.
Even where there is little cover,
pumas are masters of invisibility,
stalking their intended victims
by using hollows in the ground.
Many chulengos die in their first year,
but now is the most dangerous time
of their lives,
especially if they leave
the relative safety
of their mother's side.
Life is a constant battle
between the puma's stealth
and the guanaco's sharp eyes.
In this case, the eyes win.
Guanaco numbers can be seriously
reduced by pumas.
But to truly understand the way
guanacos live and die
requires knowledge.
And to get it,
you have to catch the chulengos.
Dr. Bill Franklin and his helpers
have been studying guanacos since 1976,
and with so many years experience
behind him,
he knows this mother is
being difficult-and dangerous.
This angry female has made it clear
that her chulengo
is not going to become
a part of Bill's scientific data.
But Bill also notices something else
about the female.
Not only is she very aggressive,
she is also rather fat.
So he leaves her to
regain her composure in peace,
but instructs one of his students to
watch her from a distance.
It soon becomes obvious that this.
Particular guanaco
is a very special mother.
She is about to give birth again,
though she already has a chulengo
barely three hours old.
Only once in 20 years
has Bill observed guanaco twins.
But now he has another opportunity
to study this extraordinary event again.
The first born chulengo
seems a bit confused
by this staggering addition
to the family.
During the coming months,
scientists will closely
observe the twins
as they face the dual threats
of bad weather and puma attack.
But for the study to have meaning,
single chulengos must be
collared and tagged as well.
The fleet-footed youngsters
must be brought to ground.
But sometimes,
the only contact is the ground.
When they're just a few hours old,
chulengos are easier to catch
and can be handled
with a minimum of stress
to both mother and chulengo.
Wild though they are,
guanacos see scientists
almost every day
and are at ease in their presence.
For two decades,
Bill Franklin has given
dozens of students
the privilege of studying
one of the most interesting animals
on earth,
and he is the world's leading authority
on these-toughest of survivors.
Tagging the chulengos
allows their habits and movements
to be observed and recorded.
And while its mother
looks on anxiously,
her chulengo is weighed and examined.
Much can be learned,
for the health of this chulengo
may be a reflection
of the health of the region
in which it lives.
The chulengos are fitted with
radio transmitters
so their life-and-death struggles
can be followed.
In this way,
Bill has discovered that guanacos
may live as long as 12 years,
but only if they survive
the first year.
The chulengos will be closely guarded
by its mother for the whole year.
But despite this protection,
up to 80 percent of the year's
offspring might be taken by pumas.
Separated from its mother,
a chulengo is confused and in danger,
so Bill is anxious to
return it quickly.
In fact, chulengos will readily become
attached to humans
when they're very young.
And only when they see and smell
their mother again
will the bond be retied.
And Bill watches to ensure this
takes place.
To see the two together again
is a heartening moment,
and mother and chulengo
soon rejoin their family group.
Once all are together again,
the dedicated scientific
work of following
each collared chulengo's struggles
can begin.
Summer and winter,
Bill's students take to the hilltops
to check on the whereabouts
of the chulengos.
The receiver distinguishes
between each collared youngster
and also register
if there is lively movement or not.
So a scientist is able to tell
if a chulengo is alive or dead.
If a mortality signal is received,
the body must be found
and the cause of death determined.
This chulengo was killed by a puma,
for the big cats cover their kills
to hide them from scavengers.
The puma will return to eat its meal
under the cover of darkness.
The cats hunt mostly at night,
so evening is the time to wake up.
And with pumas on the prowl,
night is the guanacos' time
of greatest danger.
Do they have a strategy
for staying alive they move house.
Night's aren't entirely friendly
to pumas either.
A mother with cubs may be ambushed
by a male puma
from a neighboring territory,
so she delays leading her cubs
out of the den
until the light is fading,
and will be careful
as she guides them to the kill.
As night falls,
guanacos climb to the tops
of bare hills,
and the strategy makes sense:
There's less cover up here,
which means that even in darkness,
pumas will have difficulty approaching
without being seen.
The mothers will ensure
that their chulengos are close by
and the male will keep watch
from the edge of the family group.
Staying alive at night
is far more perilous than daylight,
for guanacos need moonlight to see,
while pumas have sharp vision,
even on the darkest nights.
But they still take the precaution
of dragging their meal into thick cover.
This is a tough task,
for the guanaco carcass
may outweigh her
by as much as 200 pounds.
But she must struggle on,
for thick cover
provides a safer place
for her cubs to feed.
The family shares the food amicably,
with the youngsters getting first bite.
And once they fill their bellies,
the cubs can indulge
in some late night revelry.
No doubt this play
helps develop muscles
and hunting skills,
but they also seem to be
just enjoying themselves.
Their mother must recover the carcass,
for it will feed them
all for at least two more nights.
At the first hint of dawn,
the female leads her cubs
back to the den,
barking instructions
to hurry them along.
It's important they are back
in a safe place by daylight,
and the sun is rising fast.
Once the pumas are back at their dens,
the guanacos come back downhill
to the food-rich meadows
they abandon at night.
Joining them is a wealth of wildlife
that floods into the park
during the spring and summer.
Many wildfowl breed here,
including graceful black-necked swans
and the chest-patting ruddy duck.
There is food for all,
especially guanacos.
And though summer is a time for plenty,
the park lies in the wildest extremity
of South America.
And the weather cannot
be taken for granted.
Guanacos must take good care
of their soft woolen coats.
So dust bathing is a daily ritual.
Keeping them in tip-top condition
could mean the difference
between life and death.
For even in summer,
icy winds and snow
can blast down from the mountains.
Winds of 100 miles an hour
have been recorded here.
And driven by these raging winds,
freezing snow showers
can be a killer.
When the weather has
been particularly brutal,
the undertakers of the air
are never far away.
Most chulengos are born around midday.
For those that are born late
have little chance
during hostile summer storms.
And once hypothermia sets in,
death follows quickly.
There is nothing
the distressed mother can do.
The condors will hang on the wind
until a chulengo is still.
But its mother is hesitant
about defend it.
Perhaps she's intimidated
by the condor's impressive bulk.
Only when the condors
begin eating her dead offspring
does she muster enough courage
to chase them away.
Her defense is in vain.
Gray foxes scavenge dead meat, too,
and their hunger
makes them aggressive.
Though some of the meat
will be eaten now,
it is vital to store
some of the scraps for use
in harder times.
So these caches of meat
are hidden underground.
In the dead of winter,
they'll return for
their long-buried meal-
if they can find it.
Summer can be an easy time for foxes.
And like most predators,
their cubs are raised
on the misfortune of others
not just dead chulengos and
the remains of puma kills,
but eggs, birds,
and lots of beetles.
Foxes can raise up to
five cubs each summer.
And though puma-killed guanacos
are an important source of food,
pumas also kill foxes.
So it's best to keep out of sight.
Killing isn't always
a big cat's priority.
Eating a guanaco on
a hot summer's day
is thirsty work.
So she had to abandon the carcass
to find much needed water.
The killer cat
is watched by many eyes.
The crested caracara
is another scavenger
that looks to the puma for leftovers,
and it already has the chulengo
carcass in its sights.
With the foxes frightened off
by the puma,
it too can benefit
from the chulengo's death.
Nothing is wasted
in this hungry land.
As with all birds of prey,
the caracara's hooked beak
and sharp claws
enable it to rip
meat off the tough carcass.
The caracara also has a family to feed,
so scraps are taken back to its nest.
Two chicks are the norm,
but conditions are so harsh
in these wind-swept mountains
that food is difficult to find.
So in most nests,
only one chick will survive.
Life is tough in the mountains.
And the short summer
is a vital time
in the lives of local animals.
Guanacos are no exception.
It's breeding time,
a male guanaco's most
challenging time of year.
The females in his family group
are now in breeding condition,
and the territory-holding male
has a job to do.
He must not only sniff
out those females
that are ready to mate
he must also ensure
that other males are kept out.
With aggressively lowered head,
he dashes around,
marking his territory
by adding to dung piles
scattered around the real
estate he calls his own.
Each pellet contains his scent
and announces ownership
to other nosy males.
Only he is allowed
to use these territorial markers,
so if another male has
the nerve to drop
dung on one of his piles,
it is a serious insult.
This intruding male must be
driven out of the territory
before it can get access
to the females.
But, as he's determined to stay,
the manure really hits the fan.
These battles for females
can be exhausting,
the combatants galloping for miles
across the hills.
With the landlord away at war...
...other males may try to mate
with his females.]
And while the cat's away...
But it's important
that everyone does mate
during the same few days.
And every male wants a
slice of the action.
But some young guys
never get the footwork right.
When the territory owner returns,
the young guy could be beaten to death,
but only if he gets caught.
The landlord means business,
so the cheating youngster
is literally running for his life.
The outcome of such a battle
is often worse than broken bones.
If a puma spots his injury,
he could make an easy meal.
If the young guy is
to stand a chance of surviving,
he needs a place to hide.
And fortunately for him,
guanaco society provides
just such a sanctuary...
...a sort of bachelor's club
between the family territories
where dispossessed males can gather.
And if he finds one of these areas
before a puma gets him,
he will be allowed to join
without having to fight for his place.
He is still not safe from puma attack.
But many pairs of eyes
give greater security
while his wounds heal.
The other members are males
who've lost territories
or young males evicted
from family groups.
And apart from eating,
the most important activity is play.
It is here that young males
learn the language
and ritual of combat.
They engage in playful
bouts of sparring
to win status in the hierarchy.
But as they get older,
they develop the strength and skills
for serious fights.
Most members will go through
two or three years
of cheerful neck chewing
before fights become serious.
And by then,
the mature males
are ready to leave the group
and try to win a territory
of their own.
But they may have to wander the hills
alone and homeless for months on end.
And other big changes
are in the air, too.
Nights are growing colder.
Autumn mists fill the valleys.
Life is getting harder.
Tougher conditions mean family groups
join together to wander
in search of food...
...much to the annoyance
of the territorial males
whose backyards they invade.
With autumn's glorious colors
in full bloom,
the herds move around even more,
forcing the pumas to track them during the day
so they can hunt hem
during the night.
Like the guanacos,
pumas also hold territories
as much as 60 square miles
for a female like this,
but often larger for a male.
Guanaco real estate
is divided into much smaller areas.
So the national park feeds
about 2,500 guanacos,
and they in turn
feed about 25 pumas.
But all this is about to change.
Real hardship is about to strike.
Winter is sweeping down
from the mountains.
Death travels with the wind.
Blizzards and deep snow
make survival increasingly difficult.
Most of the birds have fled.
Almost everything else
has to move, too.
Guanacos, foxes, pumas
- all search desperately for food.
And in their search,
the guanacos' hooves
leave a scent trail,
making it easy
for the pumas to follow.
In the guanaco's mass exodus
from their summer range,
the migrating family groups
coalesce into large herds
and the pumas must stay close,
both mother and cubs.
Survival hangs in the balance
for both predator and prey.
But the guanacos
are forced to migrate
through unfamiliar terrain,
so the pumas have the advantage.
And, if they are skillful,
they can maneuver
into a position of ambush.
To add to their problems,
the guanacos have to
migrate into areas
where conditions
seem particularly bad.
But this is one
of nature's classic contradictions:
it is here that fierce mountain winds
below some of the snow
off grass and shrubs,
making it easier
for guanacos to feed.
But starvation is always a threat.
If severe weather persists,
It can take a heavy toll,
to the benefit of the little gray foxes.
If they have already exhausted
their buried supplies of meat,
they are relegated to
digging for frozen insects.
But they don't ignore
the threat from pumas,
it's quite the opposite.
The foxes actually trail the cats,
Waiting for them to provide
a larger meal.
And they may be lucky.
Condors also monitor the guanaco herds.
For this is an easy time for scavengers
as well as killer cats.
Weakened by hunger,
guanacos can be easy prey.
And the puma
has killed one on the cliff
and dragged it down
into the valley below.
She has partially covered it with snow,
but with the threat of thieves
from above,
she must cover the carcass
more carefully.
Huge front paws
shovel snow effectively,
but an even better deterrent
against the condors and foxes
is her presence,
and that of her waiting cubs.
The cats can be seen easily
in the snow,
so the hungry cubs will have to wait
until nightfall to enjoy their meal.
For they're still at risk
from other hungry cats
That could be hiding nearby.
So once the female has covered the carcass,
They will all gather nearby
to stand guard.
But deep snow
makes traveling difficult,
even with the benefit
of outsized paws.
With meat stored in the freezer,
the puma family's immediate future
is assured...
the guanacos' future, too.
For winter's last full moon
is waning.
As the sun releases winter's icy
grip on the land,
the guanacos hurry back
to their summer territories.
The males reestablish their ownership
of prime real estate,
and once again
they turn their attention to females
to their lust meadows.
And with spring at hand,
the park becomes a mecca for wildlife.
The year has come full circle.
Large flocks of upland geese
and their fluffy chicks
join the guanacos.
And within a few weeks,
females will drop the
next generation of chulengos
into a glorious carpet of flowers.
Burgeoning vegetation
means there should be plenty to eat,
but last year's chulengos eat more
as they grow larger,
and each family group
has a limited feeding territory.
Over-population can lead to hardship
and starvation,
but guanacos have a solution
to this problem, too.
The adult males drive off all of
last year's offspring.
This is a dramatic
turn of events for the yearlings.
And they're reluctant to leave home,
signaling appeasement
to the male
with a forward-curved tail.
But even if the male gets the message,
he must press home the attack.
The future of his whole family group
depends on his ruthless aggression.
In a desperate attempt to stay
in the family group,
the yearling circles back around.
But the more he tries to stay,
the more determined the male becomes.
And this could have
disastrous consequences.
An injured yearling
is in serious danger.
If he's unable to find his way
to the security of a male group,
its fate is all but sealed.
The puma cubs are now nearly grown now,
and have formidable appetites.
So their mother must
increase her hunting.
There is little chance for
an injured yearling.
For the cubs are bolder now,
Investigating their territory
with enthusiasm
and no longer waiting for nightfall to eat.
The cub's mother tries to
encourage them away from the kill,
but one hungry youngster
is reluctant to obey.
Future generations of guanacos
will have to remain alert
when these cubs
become experienced hunters.
With the big cats at a safe distance,
condors and caracaras
can once again take advantage
of the guanacos'
presence here-foxes, too.
In fact, the guanacos life and death
Is the essential pivot
upon which all life is poised.
For their competitive social system
has evolved because it makes maximum
use of the land with minimal damage.
Guanacos are now protected in Chile
and are holding their own.
But in many ways,
they protect themselves.
With so many lone males
waiting for a chance
to win a territory,
it's almost certain that
only the strongest males
will get to breed.
Their future and that of all guanacos
depends on the survival of the fittest.
Their battles are a crucial part
of the never-ending cycle of life
in the southern Andes.
So the fights for territory
must continue,
however dangerous and exhausting.
For the land to sustain life,
there have to be winners and losers.
And it is essential
that the winners are so tough.
For even in this windy,
unforgiving land,
their vitality helps all guanacos
to survive,
to thrive and prosper.