Wild Australia

Full of surprises,

where nature does things a little differently...

...a continent of contradictions.

Welcome to wild Australia.

One of the most unpredictable deserts in the world can go months without rain...

...and then get soaked hard and heavy.

It kicks off a season of frenzy.

This red kangaroo, Australia's pogoing poster boy,

knows the good times won't last.

Fortunately, to get a female roo to mate, just add water.

In a land of marsupials, the red kangaroo is the champ.

Practically man-size and weighing up to 90 kilograms,

only the males are red.

Fast or slow,

the roo's springlike legs conserve energy better than running.

The question isn't why do kangaroos hop but why the rest of us don't.

This doe, or blue flyer,

has been in reproductive overdrive since the rain swelled the grasses.

She's not eating for two but for four -- one in her womb, one in her pouch,

and this one-year-old joey that's still suckling.

Soon he'll be on his own to make it or break it in the inevitable drought.

So far, the outback has generously fed the joey

and his milk-making mother.

But Mother Nature can be cruel.

When the land goes dry, so will mama kangaroo.

If that happens before the gummy bear of a baby reaches about six weeks,

she'll die and get tossed out of the pouch

to give the dormant embryo in mom's womb a better chance.

But now this multitasking mom serves her babies two kinds of milk,

from separate nipples.

The older joey gets a high-fat formula,

while his six-week-old sister suckles milk that's easier to digest

and rich in antibodies.

Meanwhile, an embryo waits for his sister to outgrow the pouch.

Then, like a Pez dispenser, the embryo will take her place --

as long as Mom's eating well.

Even on the world's driest, flattest inhabited continent,

life in the desert has its high points.

Like this place, the MacDonnell ranges,

thrust up about 300 million years ago and eroding ever since.

If you think the landscape looks forbidding,

wait till you see some of the residents.

This central bearded dragon still wears its dark pajamas

to soak in the warmth of the evening and early morning sun.

Nearby, the world's second most toxic serpent,

the eastern brown snake.

As the sun beats down, the dragon fades so he doesn't overheat.

Blending into the soil, he can eat his salad in peace.

Maybe.

Leaves and flowers won't cut it for the eastern brown snake.

In a country with the 10 most lethal snakes in the world,

he doesn't mess around.

The hungry dragon might have an inkling something's up.

Fast and feisty, this biggest of the brown snakes

kills more people than any other snake in Australia.

One bite from its tiny, three-millimeter fangs can poison nerves,

stop a heart, and cause massive bleeding.

At last the lizard gets the drift.

Now the hunter finds himself hunted.

Monitor lizards aren't choosy about what they eat.

This guy, Australia's largest lizard, finds plenty of menu choices.

The perentie can grow two and a half meters long

and give an Olympic sprinter a run for his money.

Perenties have huge hunting grounds,

but the brown snake's slithered onto this one's turf.

When Australia's largest lizard meets the continent's deadliest snake...

...something's got to give.

Their tongues can sniff out prey from far away.

And they don't give up easily.

The perentie follows the trail like a flame down a fuse.

No one knows if he's immune to the snake's venom,

but he's a brutal assassin himself.

The snake escapes to a burrow.

But no one's home.

Only problem -- It's a dead end.

Chased by the perentie,

the deadly brown snake gets backed into a corner.

The perentie has him right where he wants him.

But not so fast.

The lizard can't maneuver in the cramped burrow.

A bite from this bad boy isn't worth the risk.

He'll grab a bite elsewhere.

As the lizard lumbers off for easier pickings,

an amazing scene unfolds.

A spectacle seldom witnessed -- a living storm blowing in.

But this is no ordinary storm.

It is a tempest, a tornado,

a shimmering cloud that overtakes the outback,

drawing these travelers for around an hour every morning

when they descend to drink from this isolated watering hole.

Parakeets -- also known as budgerigars.

Each budgie has only seconds to gulp down what it can

before another drops in to take its place.

They need to drink more than 5% of their body weight each day --

not so easy on the driest continent.

After the rain, the budgies binged on fresh grass seed,

and their population soared.

The megaflock moves like a single organism.

They have no leader.

When one bird changes direction, the others follow.

Budgies from all over converge on this single watering hole

after the smaller holes have dried up.

Now they have a more immediate problem,

because their arrival hasn't gone unnoticed.

Boom time for budgies is peak time for predators.

Each bird vies for the safety of the center.

It's a bright day for the black falcon.

But he's in for a surprise.

Budgies have a drinking problem.

Unlike most birds, they don't need to lift their heads to swallow --

great for power drinking...

but not so good for spotting aerial predators.

The falcon swoops in, swift as an arrow.

But the dizzying swarm throws him off his game.

He strikes when the budgies land, stirring them up again.

Still, they won't ditch their watering hole.

Suddenly, a new arrival, and the danger doubles.

The tide has turned at the watering hole

when a whistling kite puts the budgerigars in peril.

Now no place is safe.

The kite's a decent hunter, picking off stragglers on the water.

The limber falcon nabs budgerigars out of thin air.