Thailand's Wild Cats

An ancient kingdom, a last refuge for creatures

of shadow and myth.

Behind the veil of green, Thailand's cats bide their time,

searching for prey and protecting their legacy.

Apex hunters.

These are the masters of the jungle.

The forests of Thailand are some of the oldest on earth.

For over 100 million years, they've stood watch over the

landscape, hiding some of Thailand's greatest mysteries.

And few are as secretive as this group of hunters.

Elusive, agile and with an ability to vanish in the blink

of an eye, cats are the ultimate masters of the

disappearing act.

At around 15 kilograms and standing at about

40 centimeters, this small feline,

larger than a tabby cat, may closely resemble her

domesticated relatives.

But this Asian fishing cat has a gift that sets her apart.

Unlike most small cats, she hunts in water.

She eyes her prize, fish.

Not fast enough.

This is the forest

And together with its neighboring reserve,

it is the largest protected wildlife area in mainland

Southeast Asia.

With only around 2,500 fishing cats remaining in the wild,

this forest is one of the few remaining habitats for these

remarkable creatures.

Shy and solitary, the female prefers to stay under the radar.

But she's been spotted.

A male fishing cat has been

tracking her scent through the forest.

She's nearly ready to mate.

Before he can reveal himself, another sound interrupts them.

The alarm call of a macaque echoes through the trees.

The reason for their alarm is not the fishing cats.

They are too small to pose much threat to an agile macaque.

There is something much bigger stalking this section of forest.

The troop of macaques, from their vantage point in the

treetops, spot the danger.

High up in the canopy,

they are usually safe from most predators.

But not this one.

While most cats are good climbers,

the clouded leopard is one of the best in the whole cat family.

Her rotating ankles on her back legs allow her incredible

agility in the trees,

much like a squirrel.

With the longest upper canines of any carnivore her size,

her teeth resemble the legendary sabertooth.

She's mostly nocturnal but she's breaking all the rules

for a meal.

She's not the only rule-breaker.

A few kilometers away, her two tiny cubs unwisely venture

from the safety of their den.

About a month old, they are helpless,

and a sojourn away from their hiding spot is

a dangerous move.

The long tailed macaques are no fools,

moving quickly to a new part of their home range,

far from the prying eyes of the nimble predator.

In this part of the forest, temptation can lure even the

most nervous primate to the ground.

Pollenated entirely by a tiny wasp,

figs are vitally important to these forests,

providing an important food resource for many animals and

birds that live here.

The macaques are not the only creatures here for the feast.

A herd of sturdy banteng emerges from the forest.

A relative of domestic cattle,

these wild bovines are usually very shy,

preferring to keep to the thickets for protection.

However, the promise of figs is enough to draw them out

into the open to pick through the undergrowth,

gobbling up any fruit dislodged by the birds or monkeys.

Some are not drawn to this area for figs.

The King of this jungle is on patrol.

He treads the familiar pathways along the edge of the river,

marking his territory and smelling for any sign of females.

It's his job to keep them and their cubs safe from intruding males.

He's not hunting and ignores the banteng as they feed.

This big dark bull is this herd's leader.

He's the only male of this group and he's highly

protective of all his lighter-colored females.

Green peafowls add a splash of vivid color,

but not all of them are here for the food.

Birds have an incredibly sophisticated ability to see colors.

So for a watching female,

this brilliant display is simply dazzling.

Males are highly territorial, and if a beauty contest fails

to determine the top bird, things can turn ugly.

The winner claims the territory and mating rights to

the watching females.

After their fill of figs,

the banteng move off through the forest.

And following, a silent shadow.

This tiger is a female.

She's got cubs to feed.

And unlike the big male, she's focused on the hunt.

She keeps her distance for now.

This clearing offers little cover.

She follows their scent as they move to the water nearby.

It's lined with steep banks and thick vegetation,

the perfect spot for an ambush.

Perfectly camouflaged,

the tiger waits and watches.

Her target, the banteng herd,

completely oblivious to her presence,

just the way she likes it.

She lets her prey come to her.

With every step, they get closer.

Still she waits, every muscle coiled and ready.

She's entirely focused on the herd.

She's forgotten about the peahen.

The alarm call sends the banteng running.

She settles for a dip in the stream,

to cool down after the failed hunt.

There's no need for stealth now.

With hunting off the table, she heads back in the

direction of the thickets,

where she's eagerly welcomed by her two adoring cubs.

They're about five months old, and growing fast.

She is the center of their world and she's completely

devoted to them.

Their father, the big territorial male,

plays almost no role in their upbringing.

Their mother provides everything they need,

from food to protection from potential predators.

She whiles away the afternoon with them.

She'll return to the hunt at nightfall.

About one third of all mainland Southeast Asia's

known mammal species call this forest home.

And this leopard is one of them.

With as few as 400 wild leopards remaining in

Thailand, she's incredibly rare.

She too has a secret.

Cubs.

The little female is her tiny twin.

The other cub is a little male,

and he's very special indeed.

These two are part of the future of this incredibly

special gene pool.

Oblivious to their importance to the survival of their kind,

they explore the streams and forests of their home.

They are nearing a year old, but it will be a few months

until they venture off entirely on their own.

The little female is constantly accompanied

by her black shadow.

Her twin brother may look like a completely different species,

but aside from a rare gene that causes a surplus of pigment

in his skin or hair, he's exactly the same as his sister.

It is unknown exactly how many black leopards roam Thailand's

forests, but it is thought that his coat is an advantage

in shady habitats when it comes to hunting.

He and his sister are at the age where they are learning to hunt.

A quail, the perfect target.

Not even close.

What the little female lacks in talent,

she makes up for in youthful enthusiasm.

She sets her sights higher up in the trees.

An A for effort, but their lack of experience means the

birds in this part of the forest are safe for now.

These clumsy games are the building blocks that will

eventually transform her and her brother

into deadly assassins.

Sunset in the forests of Thailand is the cue for the

night stalkers to begin their rounds.

The female fishing cat is back on the hunt,

but she's got a stalker of her own.

The male fishing cat continues to lurk close behind.

Time to make a move.

Normally solitary creatures,

fishing cats rarely interact with each other,

except to mate.

With a growling noise, called chittering,

she advertises her readiness to mate.

But that doesn't guarantee she'll accept him as a partner.

He'll need to prove himself first.

His act still needs work.

But he's not to be deterred.

He'll stick to her like glue,

in case any other males track her down.

The light of day reveals his progress.

Finally, his persistence pays off.

.

Mating complete, they go their separate ways with barely a

backward glance.

Time for the female to focus on the important matter of