[birds calling] [bills clacking] [water splashing] [wings flapping] [majestic music] - In especially dry hot summers, the level of this pond near my house just north of New York City drops noticeably.

It's a pretty accurate gauge that tells me how much I have to water the grass and garden.

Hi, I'm George Page, and when the level of the pond is down, it means I have to get out the hose and sprinkler and water a lot, but it's not a major catastrophe.

Here, in a temperate climate with four moisture producing seasons, it could take two or three years of drought before we'd see terrible effects on our local plant and animal life.

But this week on Nature, we are going to a place where there are, in effect, only two seasons, wet and dry.

Where to miss just one wet season is to experience natural calamity.

For the first time in our series, we're going to India to a national park in the state of Rajasthan just 120 miles from New Delhi.

And there, at Bharatpur, we'll discover how nature, which gives us so much beauty, also can be harsh and violent.

Our film captures these natural opposites in vivid dramatic sequences you won't forget.

[upbeat sitar music] To animals which depend upon the waters of India, the monsoon rains of late summer are vital.

Their greatest enemy is drought.

If the rains should fail, and sometimes they do, the peaceful ordered lives of the animals quickly descend into a grim fight for survival.

Each year is an act of faith in which the animals commit themselves to a breeding cycle which will succeed only if the rains come at the proper time bringing food for their young and themselves.

Most years, the rains come on schedule.

Marshes are rich, teeming with life, and resound with the calls of breeding birds.

But once every 20 or 30 years, the rains fail.

[birds calling] This is the story of one extraordinary year in an extraordinary place.

Ajan Bund is the name of an artificial lake which feeds Keola Deo National Park at Bharatpur in Northern India.

The level of water in the park is controlled from the lake, but when the rains fail, no control is possible.

By December in the year of the drought, Ajan Bund looked like a desert baking under the sun.

The wildlife, which had come to depend on the water supply, has more than six months to wait before the next monsoon.

[birds calling] At the beginning of a drought, things don't seem too bad.

Bharatpur's seven square miles of marsh take a long time to dry out.

And for most birds which find their food in shallow water or in mud, it's a time of great plenty.

But for the highly endangered Siberian Cranes, Bharatpur's rarest visitors, it's different.

[birds calling] The cranes depend for food on the tubers of a sedge plant, but sedge becomes very scarce as the water level falls.

Leaving the birds with a dangerously thin diet.

[birds calling] For fish eating birds, there's a glut of food.

Almost more than they can manage.

[birds calling] Black-necked Storks and Sarus Cranes crowd into the dwindling pools to reap the harvest of the dry weather.

Egrets and Spoonbills join them in an orgy of feeding, practically knee deep in fish.

[birds calling] Each species uses its own special technique to get a share of the fish.

Black-necked Storks hammer their prey into submission before carrying it away to eat.

Painted Storks use their open bill as a mobile fish trap, snapping its shut on anything that moves.

Strangers arrive to join the regulars at the feast.

Rosy Pelicans normally come in twos and threes, but in a dry winter, they turn up by the hundred.

The grass and sedges of the marsh in a normal year make it a difficult place for a Pelican's fishing style.

But when the vegetation dies back conditions are ideal in the remaining open water.

How the birds find out about the drought conditions in the marsh is a mystery.

[water splashing] As the flotillas cruise up and down, the Black-necks make occasional attempts to conserve the remaining fish for themselves, but without much success.

[water splashing] [wings flapping] Pelicans are big birds.

They weigh about 25 pounds and have a 10 foot wing span.

They don't stay intimidated for long.

[birds calling] [wings flapping] The regulars resent the intrusion of greedy migrants from central and western Asia.

When the Pelicans leave in their own good time, most of the fish have been eaten.

[wings flapping] Unfortunately, they leave a famine behind them.

A few fish, which were too large for the Pelicans to eat, flounder, wounded in the dwindling shallows below.

The warm air sucks the marsh dry, until even the deepest parts are just puddles of tepid water, a death trap for catfish.

[birds calling] No dead or dying creature is left alone for long in times of approaching famine.

When the Spotted Eagles finish their meal, the House Crows move in.

[birds calling] A couple of them try to drive the Eagle away when it returns, but without success.

[birds calling] The Eagles, like the Pelicans, leave when they're ready.

[birds calling] The competition between the birds becomes more and more intense as the supply of food dwindles.

Bharatpur, the sanctuary, is becoming a dangerous place, with starvation around the corner.

The natural dignity of the big birds is wearing thin by the time January brings in the new year.

A Spotted Eagle would not normally have to defend its meal from any other birds, but hunger can produce some odd behavior.

The Eagle shows a confused reaction, a combination of fear and defiance indicating that this is a most unusual encounter, the result of far from normal conditions.

[birds calling] Very seldom would a Sarus Crane dare to approach a feeding Eagle, let alone attempt to steal its meal.

But this is a young Crane, a very hungry young Crane.

[birds calling] Both birds seem uncertain what to do next.

With the advantage of height and its powerful bill, the Sarus Crane could probably drive the Eagle away, but it wanders off eventually leaving the Eagle to finish the scraps it has torn off some earlier victim of the drought.

[birds calling] For birds which can turn to scavenging during these hungry days, food is still available from the casualties all around them.

The pure predators, accustomed to feeding on live prey, have a very hard time of it.

A Ring-tailed Fishing Eagle is reduced to eating part of its prey before bringing the remains back to its young starving on the nest.

Their usual diet of small, fresh fish has to be replaced by scraps from one of the few remaining large catfish.

The Ring-tailed Eagle, unlike its North American relative, the Bald Eagle, is not a scavenger.

This grim spring turns into a carnival for the professional scavengers.

Bharatpur's vultures find plenty of work to do in their accustomed role as undertakers.

By now, water in the park is very scarce indeed.

[birds calling] The Sarus Cranes have to share the last muddy wallows with domestic buffalo.

[birds calling] In the dry season, Flap-shelled Terrapins seek shelter in the woodlands, but a non-wet season such as this catches a lot of them in the open, creeping desperately about in search of water.

[birds calling] By February, only the wading birds are still at ease.

For a Little Ringed Plover, the mud still holds some animals which can be stirred from their hiding places.

A common Sandpiper, too, finds a few last meals in the lake bed.

But they are the last.

By early March, the mud itself is dry.

[melancholy flute music] Those Terrapins which still survive have to make a final slow dash for shelter to the woods where they can lie low until conditions improve.

The undertakers don't rate the Terrapins chances very highly.

The Terrapins worst enemy among the vultures is the white one, the Scavenger Vulture known in Africa as the Egyptian Vulture.

Its slender bill can pries open the Terrapins defensive flaps.

The White-backed Vulture and the King Vulture have bills which are too clumsy to do anything but superficial damage.

Once the Scavenger Vulture moves in, however, the Terrapin will be eaten alive.

[light flute music] The King Vultures sit and wait for it to happen as the Terrapins run their final gauntlet.

[light flute music] The danger is not only from birds.

If the Terrapins tried to hang on in what remains of the mud, they would be trapped into death from starvation.

Their only option is to move with all the risks involved.

[light flute music] The Scavenger Vultures are not prepared to wait for them to die.

[birds calling] For the few Terrapins that survive the vultures, the sun is the next enemy, and usually the last.

Even within sight of a tempting patch of mud, this Terrapin has died of heat stroke, providing an unexpected meal for a Coucal.

[birds calling] Coucals are members of the same family as Cuckoos, although they build their own nests.

They normally prey on large insects, small reptiles or mice, but they're efficient scavengers as well when the chance arises.

Only adaptable feeders can survive at Bharatpur now.

The specialists, like Flamingos, must leave to live.

[birds calling] March brings hot dusty weather, unlike a normal spring in Northern India.

The shrubs and trees at Bharatpur defy the drought, however, drawing on water supplies too deep for the animals to reach.

The flowers and leaves provide food for insects which can begin to breed despite the drought.

The spring, which was denied to the animals of the marsh, arrives in the woodlands on schedule.

Wild Bees smaller than common Honey Bees, but closely related to them, conduct their business as usual, performing their pollen dance on the face of the swarm.

To Golden Orioles and Rosy Starlings, the insects are a lifeline since they make available to the birds water which only plants can reach.

Fruits, too, provide a little water before the Starlings move north to their breeding grounds.

The residents like the Rose-ringed Parakeets are breeding late this year because of the drought.

[birds calling] The male feeds the female as part of a courtship ritual, which will bind the pair together until they have raised their young.

When the pair bonding has begun, intruders are usually unwelcome, though that doesn't stop unattached males from trying to break into the pair.

[birds calling] Once the intruder has given up, in this case, it took three days, the pair can begin to prospect for a nest hole.

[birds calling] Other hole-nesters already have their young.

[birds calling] The Crimson-breasted Barbet feeds its chick on wild figs from the Peepul tree.

Barbets are related to Woodpeckers.

Unlike Parakeets, they can dig out their own nest-holes.

Hoopoes nest in holes, too, feeding their young on grubs.

Owls also seek safety within tree trunks.

All the hole-nesters avoid the dangers which surround ground nesting birds like the Stone Curlew.

In times of famine, a ground nesting bird is sitting on a universal dinner table.

To a Rock Python nine feet long, the bird and its eggs would be a mere snack, but valuable all the same when there's little else to eat.

[upbeat music] The snake detects the bird and its eggs partly by scent using its flickering tongue and partly by means of heat sensors on its lips.

When the bird moves away, the eggs still retain their heat and it's them the snake is looking for.

[uptempo music] But the day is advancing, and the sun, which has been the enemy of so many animals in this parched year, becomes an ally to the Stone Curlew.

The open ground is too hot for the snake by mid-morning, so it retreats to the shade, leaving the Stone Curlew to cover its eggs once more.

[uptempo music] By now, it's early May, and all the animals are feeling the heat.

Birds sit panting in the shade of wilting vegetation.

It's been nine months since any rain fell.

Night brings some respite from the hammer blows of the sun, but even the nocturnal predators have to feed on a population decimated by the drought.

A Mottled Wood Owl is closely watched by a Spotted Owlet as it feeds its young at the nest.

Competition is much more intense than usual in these harsh conditions.

[birds calling] Both birds are intimidated by the call of the fiercely predatory Dusky Horned Owl, which would steal chicks from either of the smaller species.

The cool of the night ends abruptly at dawn.

As soon as the sun is above the horizon, the temperature soars.

Some animals did not survive the night.

Others, like a small group of Nilgai Antelope, stand forlornly in a remnant of shade.

The temperature here now is 122 degrees Fahrenheit.

It's almost inconceivable that anything could survive in the open at this temperature, yet a Red-wattled Lapwing has chosen the center of the dried out marsh as the place to lay its eggs.

[mellow sitar music] The eggs aren't exposed to the sun for even a moment.

During the changeover, one partner waits with its shadow on the eggs until the other is safely in place.

[mellow sitar music] There's another reason for keeping the eggs covered.

Black Kites soar overhead on the lookout for food.

[uptempo sitar music] The Lapwings have taken their annual gamble that the rains will come as their chicks hatch.

As the temperature and humidity soar to unbearable levels, the first clouds for 10 months gather overhead.

It's June 21st in the year of the missing monsoon.

[birds calling] [thunder booming] For five days, the clouds build up over Bharatpur.

Finally, the 10 month wait is over.

On June 26th, the drought ends in a deluge.

[birds calling] A bedraggled Peacock sounds a welcoming trumpet call.

[birds calling] The first pools form on the cracked earth and the Lapwings gamble has paid off.

Her chicks are able to find food among the small animals at the water's edge.

Fresh green growth springs up very quickly after rain in these climates.

Bharatpur's water birds return with the grass, but now they're in full breeding dress.

[birds calling] The transformation in the woodlands is just as swift and no less dramatic.

Terrapins, which were able to find shelter from the drought, emerge into a world where once more they feel at home.

The rising waters flush the python from its hiding place.

[birds calling] As the marsh fills up, the surrounding vegetation grows fast and thick in the heat and high humidity.

The temperature is still in the high eighties, but now that there is water, life is blooming.

Insects are quick to convert leaves into energy for their own growth.

Life cycles must be completed without delay while the air is still moist.

This is a Lesser Wanderer Butterfly.

[birds calling] Wings are everywhere.

The Termites produce their alates, the winged adults which will fly away to start new colonies before the next dry season.

The alates are well-fueled with fat for their flight, which makes them a welcome supply of food for some of the other animals.

[wings flapping] By July, this little corner of India has once more taken on the cool green, which is the true face of Bharatpur in the monsoon.

The Sambar come out to feed after a long stay in the dusty woods.

[birds calling] A group of hinds, with one or two young born during the drought, take a very evident delight in their new surroundings.

[water splashing] The small number of young reflects the hardship of the winter.

It was not a good breeding season, but it's certainly turning into a well-fed summer.

The small promontory which the Sambar have chosen as a resting place, is the nest site of a Red-wattled Lapwing, which is taking the chance to replace the brood it lost in the drought.

It makes valiant, if futile, attempts to drive the deer away.

[birds calling] But there's nothing more oblivious than a group of contented deer beside a supply of cool water in the sunshine.

[birds calling] An air of contentment spreads over the whole marsh as birds and mammals alike build up their strength depleted by long months of hardship.

[birds calling] [water splashing] For many of them, the breeding season is still to come, but the Sambar mated and bore their young in the depths of the drought.

This year's few surviving calves are doubly important to the deer population.

A small group of Wild Pigs has also come down out of the woods.

With them is a Jacana and a Pond Heron.

The monotony of the dry season is building up into a glorious variety of life now that the rains have come at last.

[birds calling] [water splashing] A Sambar stag plainly full of the joys of the wet season.

[water splashing] The flooding of Bharatpur's marshes is not an annual accident.

They were established by the Maharajah of Bharatpur 130 years ago, with sluice gates to release water into a feeder canal from the large artificial lake.

The original idea was to attract and hold migrant waterfowl, mainly ducks and geese, during the winter.

[water splashing] The stored water can be released gradually into the marshes to replace losses from drainage or evaporation.

Within the sanctuary, the water is contained by tree-lined dykes.

[water splashing] [birds calling] With the water flowing down the feeder canal come vast stocks of fish, which have been washed into the lake from flooded rivers.

The water level in the marsh is allowed to rise at the beginning of the monsoon, then topped up to the right height at the end of the rains.

Under experienced guidance, water can be transferred from one marsh to another.

[water splashing] The marshes are separated into compartments with mounds where trees have been planted to provide nesting places for birds.

The list of breeding species here is very long.

[birds calling] The first to begin are the Open-bill Storks under the hungry eyes of predators and nest robbers.

The advantage of being first is to have the best of the food supply, but one's offspring are likely to become the food of others.

House Crows are notorious egg thieves.

[birds calling] Unlike many other birds, Open-bill Storks don't abandon their nest when they've been raided.

They just clean them up and start again.

[birds calling] The next likely victim of the House Crows are Great Egrets in their full breeding finery.

Their display is designed to show off their plumes to the best effect.

[uptempo sitar music] The mating ritual is a combination of special gestures and exaggerated everyday actions such as preening.

A crouching movement is the regular greeting between partners.

Shaking sticks is the prelude to building.

[birds calling] [upbeat sitar music] Nest building is going on all over the park by now, and there's a big demand for materials.

A White Ibis tries to steal sticks from a pair of Grey Herons.

[birds calling] By the end of August, 15 different species of birds are nesting in the Acacia trees, some of them in mixed colonies, and some in colonies of their own kind.

[birds calling] Spoonbills tend to be exclusive in their choice of neighbors preferring to nest next to other Spoonbills.

The exaggerated crests only appear during the breeding season.

[birds calling] A Little Egret has a clutch of five eggs, one of which is already hatching.

The colony becomes quieter when the eggs are laid.

Meanwhile, out in the open marsh, a Bronzewing Jacana calls its chicks together when it begins to look like rain.

One beautifully camouflaged egg is infertile, but two chicks are enough to replace both parents should they meet with an accident.

The trouble with having a parent with such enormous feet is that one occasionally finds oneself stepped on.

While one chick comes in out of the weather, the other is firmly anchored by one huge toe.

[water splashing] [thunder booming] Instinct dictates that the infertile egg is still incubated, for a few more days anyway.

[thunder booming] Rain falls less often as the monsoon comes to an end in September.

The vegetation in the marsh is now at its peak and practically all the birds have young in the nest.

[rain falling] The last birds to nest are Painted Storks, usually in rather select colonies, on their own, away from the clamor of everyone else's children.

[birds calling] Storks, as a group, have almost no voice.

Instead, they communicate by clattering and clacking their bills.

[birds calling] [bills clacking] Living close together can make some neighbors into good friends, but not Painted Storks.

They seem to snatch at any chance of a squabble, even over nesting materials when the eggs are already laid.

[birds calling] The courtship of the Storks will go on now for only a few more days.

Once the eggs are laid, the birds have to get down to the business of incubation, taking it in turns.

[upbeat sitar music] Sunset is the evening rush hour with some birds coming home for the night and others going out for one last fishing trip.

There's a Darter with a fish it's caught.

Soon, the busy noisy day comes to an end.

[upbeat sitar music] Dawn comes in with trumpets.

[birds calling] The Sarus Cranes hatched one egg two days ago and the other will follow today.

[chick cheeping] They're the largest Cranes in the world, standing nearly five feet tall.

The chick grows to full size before it's a year old.

For the first few months, it grows a full inch every day.

[birds calling] The second egg is almost there.

In a few more minutes, it should hatch.

One parent guards the elder chick while the other attends to the new arrival.

[birds calling] The bright white of a hatched egg shell is dangerously conspicuous and must be disposed of at once.

Since the shell also contains valuable minerals, one parent eats part of it before getting rid of the rest well away from the nest.

The chick will leave the nest as soon as it's dry, but cleaning up is a good precaution against predators.

[birds calling] Another Sarus Crane for a world with too few of them.

Another of Bharatpur's unusual inhabitants is the Fishing Cat.

It's a little larger than a domestic tabby, growing to about 25 pounds.

During the drought, the Fishing Cat survived on insects and a few small rodents, but the return of the water has restored their normal diet.

[water splashing] Although they prefer to eat fish, Fishing Cats are tough customers, perfectly capable of killing sheep, and even dogs, if they're provoked.

There's something doglike about their build, too.

But their hunting technique is all cat.

[birds calling] [water splashing] They also have the catlike habit of playing with their prey before finally killing it.

[water splashing] At the end of the drought, huge numbers of fish appear in the lake and in the enclosed marshes.

Why they're so numerous in certain years, no one knows.

The fluctuation in fish numbers is one of the mysteries of Bharatpur.

Whatever the reason, the stock this summer is colossal.

Ripples of alarms spreading through the shoals show where Terrapins and predatory fish are hunting.

To the birds, this is a different kind of glut from the despairing days early in the drought.

This wealth of fish represents a chance to repair the damage done to their populations.

[water splashing] Flocks of Cormorants fish as a team.

Each bird increasing its neighbors chances of success by disturbing and confusing the fish.

The Herons are more solo fishermen as a rule, but in times of plenty, they can forego their normal patient approach.

All the birds have the same demand to satisfy from their growing nestlings at home.

[birds calling] Once the greeting ceremony is over, one parent leaves to go fishing while the other distributes the latest catch.

The chicks persuade the parent to disgorge by tugging at its bill.

[birds calling] The abundance of fish produces an abundance of eggs and chicks, which in turn represent a plentiful food supply for birds of prey.

The Marsh Harriers have returned from their breeding grounds in central Asia and ducklings, to them, are as fish are to Herons.

The parents have an anxious time now that September has brought their old enemies back.

A pair of Lesser Whistling Ducks have seven babies to worry about.

[uptempo music] Meanwhile, all around them, the fishing goes on.

[water splashing] Some of the fish which escape the Cormorants are driven toward the bank where the Egrets are waiting.

The range of fishing techniques here is enormous among the 15 species of nesting birds.

Birds are generally assumed to be experts, but some are better at it than others.

A Darter is having a distinct problem with one fish among the disdainful and sometimes possessive Herons and Egrets.

[water splashing] Late September, when all the nestlings are growing their flight feathers, places a tremendous demand on the fishing abilities of the parent birds.

Feeding time often looks more like a violent assault and fights between nestlings of common.

[birds calling] By October, when the monsoon has come to an end, the young birds are nearly ready to go out onto the marshes to feed for themselves.

Only the Painted Storks, a month behind the rest in their breeding schedule, still have small chicks to feed.

[birds calling] They go through the same rivalries as their neighbors quarreling over a single fish as though it were the last.

This time last year, it might have been.

[birds calling] Although winter is coming and the nights are cool, the days are still too hot for comfort, at least for the young Painted Storks.

Their parents help them out by bringing water to the nest.

[birds calling] When the Painted Stork chicks have fledged and flown the nest, Bharatpur falls into a quiet period.

The heronries are deserted save for a few casualties, and the park waits for the invasion for which it was originally established.

Different birds and in far greater numbers.

[goats bleating] The Maharajah created Bharatpur's marshes to attract ducks and geese for his guests to shoot.

That was in the 1850's.

The feeder lake, Ajan Bund, was formed by building a dam 10 miles long to capture the water from two rivers for the marshes and to irrigate surrounding farmland.

Seven villages stand around the edge of the national park.

Until very recently, the villagers had the right to graze their cattle in the park.

When the water was low, the marshes made an excellent pasture.

It was a concession that did great damage to the vegetation.

It also encouraged the villagers to cut firewood in the park so that the trees suffered greatly.

In 1982, the Indian government stopped all this and seems to have managed to enforce the ban.

[birds calling] From being the private preserve of a rich and powerful family, Bharatpur has become part of a wider heritage to be cared for by India on behalf of the rest of the world.

Bharatpur was declared a sanctuary in 1956 and a national park in 1981.

It attracts tourists in large numbers every year.

Where the nobility used to shoot large bags of geese, commoners now shoot photographs.

The healing powers of the monsoon were demonstrated after the drought.

The parched lake bed was quenched by a few months rain.

But if the ducks and geese are still to rely on Bharatpur in winter, and if the Herons and Storks are still to nest here, something more is needed than a trust in nature.

The damage done by a drought is a pin prick compared to the risk from the pressures of humanity.

[mellow sitar music] While conservationists struggle with the all too familiar problem, the geese fly in for another winter.

Bar-headed Geese have been photographed crossing the Himalayas at heights of over 25,000 feet and Bharatpur is their destination.

[birds calling] There are other places where they could go, but Bharatpur has become increasingly important to migrant wildfowl during the 130 years of its existence.

[wings flapping] [birds calling] Bharatpur's elevation and official status shows the value placed on it by the Indian government, but even that is small compared to the vital importance of these marshes to the wildlife of Bharatpur in drought or in monsoon.

[birds calling] Missing monsoon inspired in me a little home spun philosophy.

Just the idea that the universal themes of man's religions and his arts seem to have their roots in nature.

Something we can all share just by looking about us.

The great themes, good and evil, gentleness and violence, beauty and ugliness, life and death and renewal, have no national boundaries.

In art and dreams in the natural world about us, they're repeated over and over again.

Contrast and paradoxes that have haunted and inspired us for millennia.

I'm George Page for Nature.

[upbeat sitar music]