National Geographic: The Savage Garden Page #2

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Her next meal will be escargot.

Remove the snail

from its shell... delicately.

Then tenderize by pounding on a rock.

The footage you are about

to see contains scenes

that may be disturbing

to some viewers.

Now if you can't stand the heat,

get out of the garden!

Speaking of the heat,

I'd like you to meet a fire ant.

These South American invaders

work in huge colonies.

They run an efficient operation.

A quarter-million ants

that's one extended family,

can get by on two meals a day.

Here's the appetizer.

And now for the main course.

An ant attacks.

The dragonfly shakes a leg.

Reinforcements are quick to arrive.

The dragonfly makes a desperate move.

It's too late.

Again and again,

the dragonfly is stung

with a caustic venom.

It's death by a thousand fiery jabs.

And I thought paparazzi were bad!

Piece by piece,

the ants dismantle their captive,

like a scene out of Gulliver's Travels

Make that Reservoir Dogs.

For the ants,

it's Tails I win... heads, you lose.

Decapitation is the final insult.

Some say the world

will end in fire ants.

For the dragonfly, it just did.

I thought the garden was mine,

but in fact, creatures

had claimed it all!

My yard was divided into warring camps!

Each shrew controls its own patch.

And being some of nature's crankiest

creatures, shrews do not like to share.

My little shrew's neighbor is sleeping

just over the scent marked border

that defines their territories.

But while these little fellows have

a great sense of smell,

they have poor vision and can

sometimes bump right into each other.

It's usually a nasty surprise for both.

The winner of this battle may gain

the other's territory.

The loser may end up as lunch.

They move faster

than Aunt Mildred dealing blackjack.

It's extreme wrestling on a tiny scale

Time out while they play

to the grandstands.

Now back to the action.

No one knows if shrews

are immune to their own venom.

But if they're not,

they really shouldn't be doing this.

A battle can last over half an hour,

but my little shrew settles this

one quickly with a well-placed nip.

No turf will change hands today.

And both scurry back to their homes.

I used to do

battle in the garden myself.

I felt it was my territory,

and I had to defend it.

Sure I had big weapons.

But I was starting to

worry about the little things.

Something was bothering me.

I couldn't put my finger on it.

Lucky for me.

Black widows were living in my shed.

The male is outweighed

He approaches,

tapping carefully to woo her

and to avoid her lethal bite.

If we could understand

his vibes of love, it would go like,

Please baby, please baby,

please don't kill me!

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