Baby Animal Survival (Full Episode) | America's National Parks Special | Nat Geo Animals

Amidst the huge, breathtaking landscapes of America's national parks, havens for animal families of all kinds, the greatest treasures of all may be the smallest. They're also the most at risk. As cute as wild babies can be, they have to be tough to survive. Many animals born in the parks will never reach their first birthday. Even the biggest little ones have to watch their backs. So wild moms and dads do their best to protect the national park's tiniest residents in their most dangerous year of life. On the south coast of the Alaskan peninsula, in Katmai National Park, lies a refuge called Hallow Bay, a wilderness far from human populations. Desperation drove mama brown bear Ursa here. Not long ago, her family was in their snow den up in the Aleutian Mountains. For four months, she nursed her cubs. When they finally emerge in April, she hasn't eaten anything for nearly six months. She's lost around a third of her body weight. Now, she's got to eat. She must dare to enter the grizzly empire with her three young cubs. Each spring, this place draws dozens of bears. At first glance, the appeal isn't obvious. Brown bears are predators, and there's no prey in sight. Between the foothills and the mudflats, the bay is covered with sedge, a bit like grass. But for Ursa, this is vital food. She'll spend the next couple of months grazing like a cow. It seems incredible that one of the biggest predators on the planet could get much nutrition from this. But some sedge packs over And Ursa needs all the nutrition she can get. Her milk is five times richer than cows, and that goodness has to come from her diet. Even though her son Thor and his siblings rely on mother's milk, they follow her lead. By copying her, they learn the skills they'll need to survive on their own. Thor and the other cubs are young, but they already have their own personalities. His sister is adventurous. She often wanders away from mom to explore. The boys roughhouse together. Thor's playful brother is loving life. Thor is cautious. He sticks close to mom and eyes the world warily. All three are gearing up for the most dangerous year of their lives. The odds are stacked against them. Males like this bear, called Andre, are a threat. Powerful males fight for the right to mate. Andre is high on the pecking order, and he could be violent. Mama bears like Ursa try to steer clear of the swirling testosterone. For her youngsters, males like Andre are a real danger. They will sometimes kill cubs to bring their mother back into heat, or even to eat them. Andre is on the move. Ursa senses the threat. The little ones pick up on her fear. A 20-pound infant like Thor could provide Andre a day's worth of calories. Ursa can't let him get too close. He's around 50 yards away now. A bear like Andre can run over 30 miles an hour. He could cover that distance in less than four seconds, and he's closing in. The cubs can't outrun Andre, but Ursa has a plan. She knows of a bluff that rises from the shore. A trail leads to the top. It's a refuge. From here, Ursa can watch the male below. This time, Andre moves on. For now, Ursa has kept her family safe. But this is a dangerous world. Barely half of all brown bear cubs make it to their first birthday. Even a simple food run can put Ursa's young family in danger. Still, they have no choice. They need more food, and the miles of mudflats are like a self-serve clam bar. Ursa's claws can be lethal weapons, and also deft enough to shuck a clam. Thor and the others need to learn these skills. The protein is critical for the cubs. Thor and the others nurse every couple of hours. Unless they gain enough weight, they won't make it through the coming winter. Stuffed with clams or milk, it's time to settle down for a nap. Yet while they sleep, another danger sneaks up on them. The sea rises more quickly than expected. When they wake up, they're stranded. The cubs are helpless. They need mom to find a place they can cross back to the shore. She tests the depth. The little cubs aren't strong enough to swim far. Brown bear cubs have been known to get washed away and drowned. Ursa is getting frantic. Thor's bold sister gives it a go. The brothers are too timid to try. Eventually, they have no choice but to risk it. A current is ripping through the middle. If they're too weak to fight it, they're doomed. Thor and his siblings battle the current. Desperate to make it to the safety of the shore and mom. It's another lucky escape. The cubs gained confidence and learned a survival skill that could help them in the future. Atop the cliffs of California's Golden Coast in Joshua Tree National Park, a bobcat mom roams her territory. There's about a square mile of grasslands this bobcat calls her own, where she lives, sleeps, and hunts. She's twice the size of your average house cat, around three feet in length, and she's a lot more of a loner. There is another cat nearby. It's her daughter from last year. This young female would like to tag along, like the good old days. It'll take a few months for her to learn that those days are gone. Mom already has plenty to keep her busy back at the den. Two kittens can be a handful. These wide-eyed wonders are just over a month old. At this age, they're still working on their motor skills, climbing, playing, and testing their balance. It's a work in progress. One day, these kittens will keep up with their mother by following the white spots behind her ears and on the end of her tail. For now, she hunts solo. With mom gone, this duo is left to entertain themselves, seeing how far their little legs can take them. Straying too far on this coast can be deadly. Hawks watch from above, and coyotes stalk below. It's enough to make you lose your appetite for adventure. So, they go back to the den. But they're soon back out, exploring their world. They roughhouse to develop the muscles and nervous system they'll need to survive as hunters, just like their mother. A good bobcat mom, she continues to prowl for a meal. She gets her moniker from her stubbed tail. As the West's junior cat, she may play second fiddle to the mountain lion. But if anything, she's even more resourceful. They call her the coyote of cats. She'll eat almost anything she can take. Like all felines, she's an expert hunter. But rarely does the bobcat chase down her prey. Instead, she prefers to pounce. With a family to feed, she has to make her pounces count. When she returns to her den, her kittens are safe and sound. The family will stay together until fall. Then, the kittens must make their own way, heading out into the wild west. To the northeast, in Montana's Glacier National Park, lives a much bigger family of black-tailed prairie dogs. About six weeks old, these pups are shaking off the morning cold. They live in a large extended family, hundreds strong. Though small, prairie dogs are vital to the health of the plains, in part because most of the predators here eat them. This prairie dog family is trying to make it against the odds, but they just rolled snake eyes. A rattlesnake. This rattler is gunning for the prairie dog town's pups, in particular. The town's folk have posted lookouts. When a sentry spots the intruder, he sounds the alarm. It gets everyone's attention. This particular call is specific to the snake. No translation needed. The warning works. The snakes lost its chance for an ambush attack, but the dogs aren't done. Incredibly, they now form a posse to drive the bad guy out of town. The snakes quick on the draw, but the dogs are even quicker. They successfully defend their land and pups and celebrate victory with a different call. The jump yip. No one knows for sure what it means, but it sure seems like a happy dance. The good times also roll to the west, off the coast of California, in Channel Islands National Park. This fine line between sand and sea is a food delivery service. Waves bring dinner to the doorstep of millions of coastal birds. This snowy plover has just received his takeout order of insects. He's the pest control in his Pacific Coast nesting grounds. He'll need his strength for his growing family. Both mom and dad take turns egg-sitting. Dad usually takes the night shift. Mom the day shift. And vigilance is vital. There's danger above. This hawk would love nothing more than a scrambled egg breakfast. To counter, the plover is about to do something extraordinary. He pretends to be injured. A living decoy. He catches the hawk's eye and distracts it from the nest. When the hawk comes too close for comfort, the plover suddenly finds his speedy little legs again. It's a strategy that works. And soon enough, the nest is filled with chicks. Within hours of hatching, the chicks are up and running. The next generation of insect catchers. Their mother is not the maternal kind. She immediately leaves to find another mate. Dad hangs around for about a month and takes the young ones under his wing whenever danger swoops by. Well to the east, in Yellowstone, as early winter descends all too quickly with a dramatic flare, a mom will be put to the test. Some animals struggle. But river otters, like this mother and her nine-month-old pup, make the most of a snow day. But the fun is coming to an end. And this pup will soon face a terrifying ordeal. Their home on the Yellowstone River is freezing up. Since it's not frozen yet, they'll feed here while they can. The pup is still learning to fish. For now, it's easier just to steal moms. But he must learn to fend for himself. Soon, she'll send him on his way. And there are many dangers in Yellowstone's winter. A starving coyote will eagerly kill and eat a young otter. The coyote is ready to attack. The otter's only chance is in the water. The coyote is patient, looking for a chance to strike. He can swim, but not like an otter. Mom and her pup are safe for now. Yellowstone won't let them off that easy. Soon, almost everything will freeze. Without open water, the otters will be in trouble. Fortunately, Yellowstone's geyser basins stay open all year, thanks to the chamber of molten magma boiling under the park. Beyond the thermals, the freeze is happening fast. The ponds are first to set, blocking a beaver lodge in ice, then slower-flowing streams and rivers, then the faster ones. Winter even tames the Rockies' largest waterfall, Lower Yellowstone Falls. The otters are now in crisis mode. There's only one hole left in the ice, and it's freezing up too. They need to leave and find a new home. Mom is cautious. With a coyote on the prowl, she'd rather hold tight here for now. The pup's natural instinct is to wander. This could be a fatal mistake. The young otter is caught out. His eyes are designed for life underwater. Out here, he can barely see. He's lost and alone. His mom can't find him. He's somewhere further down the frozen river, too far for mom to hear his calls. But the coyote hears him. Only the deep snow keeps him at bay. Mom finally picks up a faint scent. The pup's survival depends on who reaches him first. At last, the mama otter hears her son. And he hears her. No time for greetings. The coyote is closing in. They need to get to open water quickly. They're off on the slalom ride of their lives. And they know just where they're headed. To Yellowstone's version of a hot spring spa. All this hot water creates one of the most unique river systems in the world. Every second, over 500 gallons pour into Yellowstone's Fire Hole River, warming it by up to 18 degrees. So this river never freezes. It's a natural warm sanctuary in a frozen world. The desperate otters are into their 10th mile. Finally, the sound of survival. The pup's hungry enough to catch his own fish. He's faced Yellowstone's dangers and survived. He's ready to set out on his own. But maybe not just yet. Clear across the country, even in winter, the Florida Everglades stay relatively warm and green. But this peaceful looking paradise is ruled by dragons. With no other predators patrolling these waters, the American alligator is their supreme lord. No alligator is born a swamp king. They must evade countless deadly foes to reach royal status. These three new sibling princes could live up to 50 years in the wild, if they can survive their first year. The hard truth is this, only one in 10 gator hatchlings will escape death. Baby gators are a delicacy for a host of Florida's wild residents, both above and below the waterline. None is as fearsome as a full-grown king, notorious for cannibalizing their own kind. For now, the princes are in protective custody. Few in the swamp are bold enough to take on this matriarch. Her young make brief forays to explore their dangerous playground. Their days of discovery under her watchful eye are nearing an end. If one of these young gators is to beat the odds and see his first birthday, he'll have to escape the swamp's surprising array of predators searching for a meal. This large-mouthed bass will eat just about anything that doesn't eat it first, including baby gators. A gator prince wanders beyond his mother's gaze and heads out for an open river sprint. One day, he'll rule the Florida swamp, if he can make it past the large mouth. It's an ambush from below. One prince has fallen. His two siblings survive. This one looks forward to a sunbath on the apparent safety of a log. Alligators are ectothermic. They rely on external sources to control their own body temperature. It's a beautiful day to bask in the sun's warm glow. It's also a beautiful day for an ambush. The water moccasin, aka cottonmouth, is a pit viper. It uses two heat-seeking pits between its eyes and nostrils to home in on heat signatures for deadly accurate strikes. Cottonmouths are primarily active at night, but like the young gator, they love to sunbathe, which maintains their body temperature and also speeds up metabolism for digestion. Bad news for the hatchling. The venom destroys tissue and prohibits blood from clotting. The little victim will bleed out and die. The cottonmouth will dine. Now, only one gator prince remains. With a perilous first year almost behind him, the sole remaining gator prince has only one thought. He must eat. With the instincts of a supreme predator, the yearling attacks with gusto. This little guy has scored a hearty meal. As the gator reaches his first birthday, he's one of the few of his kind who has made it this far. A vast array of predators will pursue him for several more years. If he can survive across the seasons, he'll grow to four feet, no longer at their mercy, exclusively a hunter. He'll join his fellow kings, always lying in wait for his next meal. For the baby animals of America's national parks, every day is an adventure and the stakes couldn't be higher. Each foray from the safety of a den or nest can end in disaster or in learning a critical new skill that will give the lucky youngster a best shot at survival.