The southern end of the Andes...
where a mother puma tries to raise a family.
Andean condors soar over endless rainforests,
sheltering rare inhabitants.
There are species of tree here
that have outlasted the dinosaurs.
In these remote southern reaches of Patagonia,
everything must adapt...
...to constant upheaval...
...invasion...
...and explosive change.
Wild and untamed, this is life at the end of the world.
Aconcagua.
At nearly 23,000 feet it is the highest peak in the Americas.
Permanently cloaked in ice, and deeply carved by glaciers,
Aconcagua straddles the border between Chile and Argentina.
From here the Andes stretch down through Patagonia.
An inhospitable land of rock towers and biting cold...
Torres del Paine, in the Patagonian Andes,
is a stronghold for one of the world's greatest hunters.
The Puma.
This female is stalking another
of the
the guanaco.
Hunter and hunted...
each must use all its senses to outmaneuver the other.
But she's been spotted.
The guanaco have a temporary reprieve.
Here, wintry squalls can blow in with little warning,
even in summer.
Bad weather makes every threat even more dangerous.
Fortunately, guanaco are well-protected
from the freezing temperatures.
Their fleece is layered
with short downy hair that keeps them warm,
and long guard hair that waterproofs them.
But hunger and fear are never far away.
Icy winds swirl around the Torres del Paine,
the Towers of Blue.
At best, they make life unpredictable...
at worst...
unbearable.
Each valley harbors its own weather.
Predators and prey must keep on the move
if they want to avoid the worst
these mountains can throw at them.
Sheltered by the granite spires and surrounding peaks...
...many of the slopes are free from snow,
making travel much easier.
The female puma moves with determination,
but she isn't hunting.
Or, at least, not for food.
A male puma.
Females can come into heat at any time of year.
Her pheromones signal she's ready to breed.
They'll now spend a week together,
mating many times a day, before going their separate ways,
endlessly roaming the slopes of this vast landscape.
The Andes are the longest mountain chain in the world...
...stretching 4,000 miles
along the entire western edge of South America.
Parallel rocky spines snake from the tropics in the north,
down to the chill of Patagonia.
Here, the mountains have been carved by ice
and are separated by deep fjords.
Heading north from Torres del Paine,
the mountains embrace some of the world's largest ice fields,
and hundreds of active volcanoes.
On the western slopes, in central Chile,
lies one of the most southerly rainforests in the world.
Moisturized by Pacific fog, the Valdivian forest
is bursting with natural treasures.
Many of them are named after the man
who first discovered them...
including Darwin's stag beetle.
This male is about three and a half inches long,
but its ferocious mandibles
account for more than half its length.
From high in the canopy comes the irresistible smell
of a female's pheromones, luring him upwards.
Along the way, he breaks for a restorative drink of sap.
But he can't stop long.
Competition is on its way.
Another male, drawn to the same seductive scent.
The rival takes to the air to make his ascent.
They are heading for a treetop showdown.
But will either of them have energy left for a fight?
Sixty feet up, the stage is set for a clash of the titans.
The two males square up to fight.
The grappling begins.
A kind of beetle jujitsu.
The goal?
To launch one's opponent from the branch.
And win the right to mate with the female waiting nearby.
The climber hooks his longer mandibles under the flier...
and triumphs!
The interloper survives the fall.
But he's out of the running.
Up above, the victor is already claiming his prize,
mating with the much smaller female.
The fact that the winner usually boasts the largest mandibles
shows that with Darwin's stag beetles,
size really does matter.
Down in the mossy undergrowth
lives another of
Darwin's frog.
It's not unusual for male frogs to look after their young,
but the male Darwin's frog
takes paternal responsibility to a whole new level.
The brown female laid eggs in the leaf litter.
Nearly a month ago.
After she left, the male took the eggs into his vocal sac.
Three days later, they hatched into tadpoles
and have remained there ever since.
For the next three months, the tadpoles will develop inside him
until they're mature enough to be spat out into the world.
Along with Darwin's frogs,
an incredible 90 percent of species
found in the Valdivian forest
have evolved to live only here...
isolated by the towering uplift of the Southern Andes.
The lush rainforests couldn't be more different
to the barren land of Torres del Paine...
600 miles to the south.
This is the realm of the Puma...
and its many prey that scratch a living among the scrub.
Today they're very much in the female's sights...
...especially now she has three extra mouths to feed.
For three months, she has hidden her kittens in a den.
Now it's time to explore.
Every step brings new adventures in this rocky world.
For the first time, the mother lets the cubs run wild...
free to learn from their own mistakes.
However, they will be many months
before they are wily enough
or fast enough to try to ambush a Darwins rhea.
Despite the abundance of prey,
the kittens won't be hunting anytime soon.
To keep them close, Mom calls to them.
But sometimes curiosity gets the better of little cats.
And wrangling kittens is no easy task.
Fortunately, even though they're weaned,
her young know not to stray too far.
Just one more to come.
Now that they're all together, it's time to get them fed...
A guanaco appears nearby...
and the mother puma can smell her.
The cubs follow.
Time for their hunting lessons to begin.
Above the Valdivian forest in central Chile,
living fossils adorn the mountain slopes.
Araucaria trees have been around for 200 million years,
since the time of the earliest dinosaurs.
The Araucaria are an important source of food
for Austral parakeets.
The sharp leaves are no impediment to the hungry birds,
on the hunt for the calorie-rich kernels.
It's thought that long-necked dinosaurs
would once have fed on these seed cones.
Now only birds can get this high.
Incredibly, this ancient species of tree
has been around longer than the mountains beneath them,
including Llaima... one of Chile's most active volcanoes.
Araucaria have outlived the dinosaurs,
and weathered the rise of the Andes.
But they've had some help along the way.
Beneath the Araucaria trees lives a small rodent...
the Andean long-clawed mouse.
Ninety percent of Araucaria seeds fall to the ground,
where they're greedily devoured by the little mice...
but first they have to get through the tough husk.
Over time the Araucaria have come to rely on these mice
and other rodents for their regeneration.
In times of plenty, the long-clawed mice
eat their fill...
...then bury some for later.
If the extra cache doesn't get eaten,
it may germinate into the next generation of giants.
Compared to the rise of the Araucaria,
the rise of the Andes is a recent event.
It's only 25 million years since huge tectonic forces
began pushing this land towards the sky.
Many of these peaks are dormant volcanoes...
their slopes reddened by iron-rich hematite
from deep within the earth.
Immense ash and debris flows, triggered by eruptions,
are today sliced through by glacier-fed rivers.
Erosion has chiseled hard igneous rock
into famous landmarks...
such as the three Torres del Paine.
Predators and their prey have carved their livelihoods
between the imposing peaks.
The mother puma has left her kittens in a safe place.
Silent and alone, she moves in on the guanaco herd.
Shrubs and rocks offer cover for an ambush.
There are inexperienced youngsters among the herd...
prime targets.
She must remain downwind and out of sight of the dominant male,
who stands sentinel over the entire herd
of females and young.
She will have to approach very carefully.
The essence of stealth, she is almost upon them.
The female puma has a target in her sights.
Strong, swirling winds could betray her scent at any moment.
She takes advantage of the mountain's shadow.
But she can't avoid the sunlight completely.
Although strong and agile, she can't outrun guanaco
with top speeds of 30 miles an hour.
Her only option is surprise.
They run...
but it's too late.
Once in the grip of her powerful jaws,
there is no hope of escape.
Her next meal is now assured.
But she'll struggle to hold onto this prize for long.
On these open slopes there's nowhere to hide
from the sharp eyes of aerial scavengers.
It's heavy going as she tries to drag the body
out of sight of any Andean condors.
The mountain offers a cloak of darkness once more.
A Patagonian fox, or chilla, is also on the prowl.
Once hidden in the shadows, the puma rips open the flesh.
Dusk is approaching and she'll need to return to her kittens,
but she won't leave the guanaco
until she's at least eaten its internal organs.
In this punishing environment,
there's no telling when she might eat again...
...and, without her, the kittens
stand no chance of surviving.
The heart, liver and lungs
are the most nutritious parts of a kill.
She won't risk losing these prizes to anyone else.
The chilla may have its eyes on her,
but she has to leave the carcass to rejoin her young.
It's a long way... and it will soon be dark.
Dawn reveals a thief in the pantry.
Chillas mostly hunt small mammals,
but this easy meal is too good to miss.
It's not alone.
Its mate waits nervously in the wings.
Even though they're a monogamous pair...
there's no love lost when it comes to sharing.
As the day warms up, rising thermals
give Andean condors a lift in their endless search for food.
With their 10-foot wingspan
they ride the air currents above the southern cordillera,
traveling up to 200 miles each day.
This group has spotted the puma's kill.
In this barren land, any leftovers attract like a magnet.
They quickly set to work,
stripping the flesh from her hard-won meal.
But with so much competition, things soon turn scrappy.
Those that eat their fill can barely get off the ground.
Southeast of Torres del Paine, cool, wet forests
blanket the foothills of Tierra del Fuego.
Today it is being seriously impacted
by an animal that shouldn't even be here.
The North American beaver.
In 1946, 50 individuals were brought to Tierra del Fuego
to create a fur-farming industry.
The scheme failed, but the beavers flourished.
They are extremely industrious engineers.
On a small scale
they mark out their home turf with mud piles...
...which they douse with castoreum...
a powerful-smelling secretion from a gland near their tails.
But their profound impact on the landscape
extends far beyond these earthen excavations.
Beavers fell trees to dam rivers and create ponds...
in which they can build their lodges and raise their young,
safe from predators.
In their North American homeland,
these busy beavers have evolved
in tandem with their environment.
But in Tierra del Fuego they have become a natural disaster.
Some native species, such as the Magellanic woodpecker,
get a boost...
winkling out insect grubs from newly dead or dying wood.
But most species here do not benefit
from the havoc wrought by these rapacious rodents.
Whenever a dam is breached, beavers quickly cut more wood
to plug the gap and maintain the water level.
In North America, their deep ponds
provide protection from a bear or wolf attack.
Here in Tierra del Fuego they have no predators...
but still have the urge to build their dams
and maintain their protective moat.
Unfortunately, the trees here
haven't evolved to cope with being submerged.
Instead, they have become a forest of skeletons,
scattered across a watery graveyard.
If the invasive beavers remain,
the future of these fragile forests
here at the end of the world is in terrible jeopardy.
In contrast, the main river in Torres del Paine
is in excellent health.
Its waters are home to a pair of Chilean torrent ducks,
trying to raise their family.
Their chicks are barely a week old...
and still looked after by their mother.
The fast-running water is fed by snow and glacier melt,
so it is icy cold.
Undaunted, a chick launches in.
The parents never feed their chicks,
forcing them to find their own food from the moment they hatch.
The other youngsters don't seem quite so keen.
But they aren't called torrent ducks for nothing.
Strong swimmers, the adults probe the underside of rocks
for the insect larvae
abundant in these cold well-oxygenated waters.
But the churning rapids
are a dangerous place for young ducklings.
They must learn to feed for themselves,
despite the powerful current.
Less than a week old, it's time to take the plunge.
Even at their young age,
the three torrent ducklings are doing fine.
Relatively, they are larger than ducklings of other species
and have the extra strength to swim against the current.
But there are limits to what they can handle.
Away from the bank, the current moves at breakneck speed,
barreling towards a set of cataracts.
Oblivious, the ducklings are heading towards the main flow.
The parents call out to their young...
...luring the ducklings
back towards the safety of the riverbank.
Finally, the family is reunited.
The still-downy chicks accept a much-needed cuddle.
Further up one of the valleys in Torres del Paine,
the mother puma is leading her kittens back to her kill.
Instinctively, they move as silently as possible...
after all, who knows what might be hiding in the long grass?
At the very least, it's good training
for when they themselves start hunting.
Their mother has found the carcass
and there's still some flesh on the bones.
Desperate for food, the kittens can't get there fast enough.
The kittens will rely on their mother's kills
for another couple of months before hunting themselves,
but they'll stay close to her for another year or so.
Well fed, the family takes a moment to relax... and play.
Sparring and wrestling... interspersed with a clean-up...
is good practice,
for a time when teeth, claws and jaws
will be put to more deadly effect.
This intensely social childhood will soon become
a largely solitary existence... if they survive.
Even for these big, powerful cats, life hangs by a thread
in this unforgiving and still-volatile mountain range.
In 2015, the Calbuco volcano, in central Chile,
exploded into life.
It ejected ash nearly 10 miles into the atmosphere.
And it's just one of nearly 500 active volcanoes
in Chile alone.
These belching giants offer stark reminders
of the violent subterranean forces
pushing the Andes ever higher.
Desolate rivers of ash may kill all in their path.
But even the land entombed here will eventually turn to green.
While these peaks reach for the skies,
the natural world must react and adapt around them.
For it is from this volcanic fire
that the spectacular wildlife of the Andes has arisen...
in this untamed Patagonia...
the land at the end of the world.