National Geographic: Panama Wild - Rain Forest of Life Page #2

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But others are waiting in the wings.

Once the coatis have relieved

their hunger,

agoutis gingerly join the feast.

Agoutis are rodents;

they have teeth

and jaws designed to gnaw right

through the tough shell

and devour the seed within.

Squirrels, too,

relish the giant seeds.

Instead of creating

new dipteryx trees,

the seeds simply feed a host

of hungry visitors...

...even peccaries.

Satiated, the coatis settle

into some mutual grooming.

In evening's golden light,

butterflies and ants gorge upon

the remains of the feast.

It's been a good day for

all the animals,

but bad for the lordly dipteryx.

Its potential offspring lie

where they would have fallen away;

nothing has carried them away.

Has the tree's survival

strategy failed?

Is the next generation lost?

Is there no help under the sun

for the dipteryx?

Perhaps the moon can shed some light

on the mystery of the dipteryx.

Tropical nights weave

their own magic

and unveil a whole new cast

of characters.

Everywhere, there are bats,

conjured out of the dark.

Among the branches hunts

a marsupial, a marmosa.

Its prey is pint-size, like itself...

...a katydid camouflaged

unsuccessfully as a leaf.

Even while enjoying its meal,

the marmosa must be wary...

if it doesn't want to end up

as dinner itself.

Dipteryx seeds make a nutritious

meal for a spiny rat,

and a dangerous one as well.

Gnawing on the tough seed makes

enough noise

to attract the unwelcome eye

of a passing margay.

The tiny forest cat enjoys its meal,

until disturbed by yet another

denizen of the dark.

Only at night does Elizabeth Kalko

venture out on her own quest.

The Barro Colorado Island

she knows is very different

from the one most people see.

The night is a totally different

world from the daytime.

We are just exposed to a wonderful

orchestra of different sounds,

of many insects and frogs,

then you see the stars

through the canopy

and this is just an incredible

atmosphere.

And occasionally there are

bats fluttering by

and even touching you

with their wings.

The night holds no fear

for Elizabeth.

She is in her element,

and bats are her passion.

She hangs nets of fine mesh over

small streams, fishing for bats.

She believes bats are the unsung

heroes of the night,

vital to the survival of dipteryx,

and many other tropical giants.

That's a short-tailed fruit bat,

and although they are relatively

easy to get out of these nests,

one has to be very careful

about their sharp teeth.

Bats rely on forest trees for

food and shelter,

but they'll repay their hosts

as they make their nightly rounds.

Legs are free, whoops,

don't bite me, be nice, all right.

I don't think that bats are

really ugly,

I think that the misconception

that bats are ugly comes from

our very limited knowledge

about bats.

Most of the bats have very,

very, very pretty faces

and especially here we find bats

with beautiful facial stripes,

and colored ears,

and they actually have large eyes

and don't look ugly at all.

But a bat is much more than

just a pretty face.

Sometimes when I set mesh nets

and bats fly in,

they bring a fruit with them

and drop them in the mesh net

and so I can tell what kind of

bat has taken what kind of fruit.

I know what this bat had for dinner.

Let's get it out of

the mesh net here.

This is a fruit of the dipteryx.

And the bat has carried the fruit

in its mouth when it was hit

into this net.

It turns out that the fate of

our majestic dipteryx

rests upon the soft wings of

a little bat.

Drawn by the scent of ripe fruit,

artibeus bats hover over

the tree's canopy.

Yet death lies in wait

among these boughs.

Luckily the bat's ability to

"see" in the dark

using sound not only pinpoints

the fruit,

it warns it of the hidden boa.

Another bat flies, locates fruit,

carries fruit away

it tears it off the stem and

carries it away.

Still it's far too dangerous

to eat it here.

Only when it arrives at

a safe roost,

usually tucked under the fronds

of a palm tree,

does it stop to eat.

Unknowingly,

it has already performed a great

service for our dipteryx.

The bat has carried the fruit

away from the dipteryx,

beyond the reach of any diseases

or parasites that may plague

the parent tree.

Once the bat gnaws off

the sweet flesh,

it lets the seed drop.

Every night when the fruit is ripe,

artibeus bats make several visits

to our tree.

And each time they return to

the safety

of the same feeding roost

to enjoy their meal.

After each trip,

another dipteryx seed joins the

little mound forming just below.

Curiously enough,

in this heap of discards lies the

tree's best hope for a successor.

Morning's light has scarcely

revealed the half-eaten fruit,

when they are discovered by

an agouti.

Have the precious seeds come

this far, only to be wasted?

But the agouti can't possibly

eat all that it has found.

And what it does next adds

another piece to the puzzle

of how dipteryx manages to survive.

With the dry season continuing,

the agouti stashes the remaining

seeds for the hard times to come.

Much like a squirrel buries a nut,

it carefully hides them,

one by one.

Yet there will always be some

it doesn't need or simply forgets.

Unwittingly,

the agouti has now planted the

next generation of a tropical giant.

As the dry season on the island

gets worse,

many canopy trees actually

shed their leaves in a tropical

version of autumn.

For months, streams have been

draining water away.

And torrid heat continues to rob

the forest of precious moisture.

The remaining water collects

in ever shrinking pools.

More and more trees drop their

leaves;

it's a way to conserve water

and cut their losses as

the drought deepens.

As always in the forest,

there's an animal that's

found a way

to take advantage of

every situation.

It hides among the fallen leaves

disappearing in plain sight.

A caterpillar masquerading as

a dead leaf.

But there's no hiding from

the army ants.

Since many small creatures

disappear in the dry season,

army ants are forced to tackle

prey many times their own size.

They overwhelm them by sheer

force of numbers.

Treehoppers suck the remaining

sap out of plants.

But they're also under attack.

A mother defends her brood

from a wasp trying

to steal one of her larvae for food.

Each time the larvae wave their legs

calling out an alarm,

the mother treehopper strikes

back at the wasp.

By April, the dry season has

turned cruel.

Famine is only just kept at bay.

The buds from the balsa tree are

eaten before they can ever bloom.

The whole forest seems to

hold its breath...

...waiting for the rains.

Over eight feet of rain may

fall during the wet season.

The first good drenching triggers

an avalanche of change.

This wet new world is paradise

for creatures... water loving...

...and waterlogged.

Stan Rand, renowned frog man,

is used to working in a deluge,

but it does have its drawbacks.

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