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The top of Texas.
Guadalupe Peak.
It stands above a proud and diverse state.
Where the Rocky Mountains and harsh desert of the American West
converge with the vastness of the Great Plains.
To where the forests and swamps of the Deep South
give way to the Blackland Prairies and Post Oak Savannas.
From the spring-fed rivers that bless the Hill Country...
...to the tropical brush of the Rio Grande Valley.
Texas gives life to animals found nowhere else...
...and attracts migrations from across the hemisphere.
More headwater springs to the Gulf of Mexico.
It is a land sculpted by water.
Where nature has selected for the most adaptable...
...and to those willing to stake their claim.
This film celebrates the natural wonders of Texas.
It is a story about tragedies in our past...
...of recoveries against all odds...
...and is a call to action to conserve the wildlife
and wild places in our home.
This is a story for all who love Texas.
The history of our relationship with wildlife in Texas...
...is best told on the High Plains of the Panhandle.
For millennia, herds of Bison roamed across Texas by the millions.
Their grazing patterns shaped our landscapes,
and their meat and hides nourished the people who lived here.
They survived ice ages and mass extinctions.
But their ability to thrive...
...was no match for westward expansion.
Only three lifetimes ago,
30 million bison roamed the Great Plains of North America.
So many, they seemed limitless.
They attracted market hunters West
where an experienced buffalo hunter could often kill hundreds a day.
Their hides and tongues were sold to markets
along the East Coast and Europe.
The meat was left to rot
or was laced with poison to kill off predators.
Efforts to slow the killing were ignored...
...for the great Slaughter destroyed the food source of Native Americans...
...forcing many under reservations.
Commercial market hunting wasn't limited to bison.
Most abundant bird in North America,
passenger pigeon, was hunted to extinction.
Wild sheep, pronghorn, deer, and elk
were killed from all but the most remote locations.
Waterfowl and shorebirds were shot by the millions.
Jaguars, grizzlies, and wolves were killed from Texas.
By the late 1800s,
our wildlife was decimated.
Legend has it that Texas rancher Molly Goodnight heard
the last bison calves crying out for their slaughtered mothers.
Of the five million in Texas...
...only five remained.
She saved them and their numbers grew.
They lived in Palo Duro Canyon until the 1990s
when they were given to Texas Parks and Wildlife
and moved to Caprock Canyon State Park.
These are their descendants.
The survivors of the great Southern Plains bison herd.
The herd is over 300 strong.
And this is the future.
Learning to be a bison is hard work.
Especially when you have to walk on day one.
These wobbly legs will need to be strengthened.
And it's a good thing mom's here to help.
They have an entire prairie to explore.
And neighbors to meet.
Like all communities, there's always that one neighbor...
...coming out of their hole with their feathers all ruffled.
There's a diversity of creatures on these plains.
And this calf needs to learn how to run in order
to keep up with the herd one day.
Which will take some practice.
Maybe a little teamwork will help improve the coordination.
These calves may only be a few weeks old...
...but the blood of Texas survivors flows through their veins.
They were born to run.
These bison won't roam the same prairies as their ancestors.
But there is room to expand.
There are public lands across Texas
that can be restored with bison.
Many ranches have already answered their call.
Bison herds are expanding across the state.
And they aren't alone.
Following the Great Slaughter of the late 1800s...
...a series of laws were passed to recover our wildlife.
Commercial market hunting was put to an end
and conservation-minded sportsmen advocated
for hunting limits and seasons.
The creation of forest, parks, and refuges provided habitat.
And international agreements protected migratory birds.
The combined efforts to restore some animals
have been remarkably successful.
And many species that were killed out of an area
have been reintroduced.
In Texas today, elk bugle from mountaintops.
Pronghorn grace the prairie.
And desert bighorn have returned to their mountain homes.
These recoveries are largely due to people who have dedicated...
...and some who have given their lives to restore our wildlife.
But there is one specie that reign supreme on recovery.
The white-tailed deer.
At the end of each winter,
the buck shed their antlers and begin to grow a new set.
During the velvet stage,
antlers can grow a quarter inch a day
and under good rangeland conditions,
the bucks put extra resources into their antlers' growth.
As summer fades into fall,
their testosterone increases and they rub the velvet off.
Revealing a fresh new set...
...of weapons.
The rut, the breeding season, lasts for only a month...
...which they have spent all year preparing for.
Most fights are settled within seconds...
...for the risk of injury is high and the larger buck
typically exerts his dominance quickly.
But when opponents are evenly matched...
...a showdown...
...for breeding rights and territory is inevitable.
Each doe is in heat for only 24 hours.
The buck's bloodlines and territories are at stake.
These incredible dramas should not be taken for granted.
A century ago, white-tailed deer had been killed from most of the state
and only survived in isolated pockets.
Today, largely due to regulations
and conservation-minded sportsmen,
there are over five million.
Other species have not shared the same fate.
In a very few special parts of the South Texas brush country...
...lives a creature once thought to be lost.
An animal so rare, it has become nearly mythical.
An ocelot.
Fewer than 80 are known to exist in the entire country.
Ocelots were once found across much of Texas
and into Louisiana and Arkansas.
Much of their habitat has been lost.
Then they were historically trapped,
hunted and poisoned by government predator programs.
Today they exist in only two small populations,
where they are genetically isolated and inbred.
A catastrophic fire, hurricane
or disease could wipe them from the country.
Much is unknown, for many landowners have not allowed research
on their property because they are concerned that the Endangered Species Act
would impact their ranching operations.
Texas is 95% privately owned,
and recovering endangered species
is very difficult without landowners support.
A growing number of landowners have embraced ocelot research and recovery.
They take great pride in conserving
both a ranching legacy and a wildlife legacy.
Inside one of these cattle ranches...
...new camera technology is revealing
the secretive lives of ocelot...
...and has given us a glimpse at the next generation.
These precious kittens have no idea
how crucial they are for the species.
Their survival depends on mom's ability...
...to hunt.
She has hidden her kittens to hunt alone.
A green jay warning others there's a predator on the prowl.
An armadillo.
Busted.
She'll have to keep hunting.
But she's not the only predator.
The brush can be a dangerous place for kittens
without their mother's protection.
Success.
Back to the kittens.
The worst sound a mother can hear.
Silence.
She has found one of her kittens.
Sadly... the other was never seen again.
She will now put her full effort into raising the survivor.
Her kitten needs to learn how to hunt on her own one day...
...which will take practice.
And a little hide-and-seek.
Hopefully, this kitten will establish her own territory one day
and play a part in the greater recovery of ocelots.
Scientists, landowners, and many organizations
are working together to introduce new genetics,
restore habitats and will hopefully start
new populations in their historic range.
Like many wildlife species, their future can be bright.
But they need our help.
Water... rarely comes peacefully to Texas.
Cold fronts from the north can collide violently
with warm air and moisture from the Gulf.
Tropical jet streams from the west bring thunderstorms each summer.
While El Niño and other weather systems
bring uncertainty from year to year...
...blue northers blanket the state in winter...
...while summer highs soar over 100 degrees.
Droughts are a cyclical part of our weather system.
As are floods.
Nearly all of our rivers are born here,
and they journey to the Gulf of Mexico.
But much of the rainfall seeps into the earth...
...into vast aquifers that cover 80% of the state.
In the poorest limestone of the Hill Country...
...the Edwards Plateau soaks up moisture like a sponge.
Below the surface, water and time
have sculpted a landscape as magnificent as the one above.
This karst ecosystem is so vast
and receives enough nutrients from the outside world...
...that life has evolved in the absence of light.
Inside this constant temperature climate...
...nature has selected for animals who conserve energy...
...and who lose traits that are no longer necessary.
This is an endangered Texas blind salamander.
They hunt the darkness by sensing small disturbances in the water pressure.
They breathe through their gills,
which change in size, depending on the available oxygen.
In this world below our feet...
...familiar creatures have become nearly alien.
A blind catfish.
There are three species in Texas
and they have been found 2,000 feet below the surface.
They are the size of your palm.
And their metabolism is so slow,
they can survive four years between meals.
We know little about them.
Yet their habitat is the foundation for our fresh water.
When the aquifers are full,
water bubbles to the surface through springs.
As springs combined together, they create creeks.
As the creeks converge, they form our Hill Country rivers.
It's water.
From stone.
In a select few rivers and creeks,
the state fish of Texas hunts the rapids.
The Guadalupe bass.
Each spring, the males begin preparations to attract a mate.
Step one is finding a suitable location for a spawning bed.
A gravel floor with surrounding protective structure is ideal.
He must choose wisely,
or he won't leave the bed for over a month.
"Ah, perfect."
The second step is to clean the gravel floor.
A difficult task with only fins,
but a necessary one.
Females don't find dirt on the bed attractive.
It's tidy.
But is it enough to impress a mate?
The females are searching for males
that will give their eggs the best chance of survival.
They will be judged on their spawning beds.
"Gross! Hey, don't mess with Texas.
Getting better.
Yuck! Hey, this ain't Oklahoma.
Now we're talking."
With up to 10,000 eggs to lay,
finding the right partner is worth searching for.
Sometimes they've been preparing a bed just for you.
During this courtship dance, the female releases her eggs,
which are fertilized by the male.
Exhausted, she has spent all her energy on reproduction.
But dad duty has just begun.
For a week straight, he aerates the eggs with his fins
until one day...
These baby bass have many predators.
And he will continue to protect them for the next few weeks.
Eventually, their responsibility passes on to us.
To ensure that our rivers stay healthy and the springs always flow.
Which is becoming increasingly difficult.
The Texas Hill Country is developing faster than any other region.
Per capita, each of us uses 138 gallons of water each day.
To meet this demand, we are taking water out
of the aquifers and pumping it to the surface.
When we remove more water than rainfall can refill,
the water table falls, and the springs go dry.
During the last century, one half of the major springs
in Texas have stopped flowing
because the aquifer was over-pumped.
Our rivers and wildlife depend on these springs.
As do we.
The people of Austin and San Antonio have taken action.
When water protection efforts were placed on city elections,
citizens voted overwhelmingly in support.
They voted to invest in water rights,
establish parks, and fund conservation easements.
They have conserved over 200,000 acres of their watersheds.
Because the future health of the land is tied to our own.
One of these conserved areas is also helping to protect...
...one of Earth's most remarkable wildlife spectacles.
Bracken cave.
This is a maternity colony of Mexican free-tailed bats.
The females migrate from Mexico to Texas each year
to feed on insects during the summer,
and to raise a new pup.
At five weeks old, the youngsters have already grown to adult size
and are preparing to take their first flight.
Airspace is crowded,
for Bracken cave contains
20 million Mexican free-tailed bats,
and is the largest congregation of mammals on Earth.
It's a difficult place to learn how to fly.
As the sun sets each summer evening,
the colony begins to emerge.
It is time for these young bats to spread their wings.
Bats experience the world much differently than we do.
They emit sounds too high for our ears to hear,
which bounce off objects, and return as echoes,
giving each bat an auditory map of their surroundings.
But with so many voices...
...their echolocation is hindered
and they must also rely on sight.
The new pups must navigate two rotations around the batnado...
...rise above the trees
and then fly to their hunting grounds.
Their gravest danger...
...is collision.
The pups who are able to free themselves must rejoin the colony.
But they do not yet have the strength or the skill
to take off from the ground.
Their only hope is to climb to a high point to take off again...
...undetected.
The coachwhip is the fastest snake in North America.
They are waiting...
...for movement.
Alone, the bats are defenseless against the snakes.
But others have also fallen.
And when one is sacrificed...
...it provides an opportunity for the others... to escape.
Flying within the colony, the young bats find safety...
...for their greatest strength is in their sheer numbers.
Above the tree line, they fly as a river.
Each individual hidden amongst the multitude.
They must blend into the group.
The emergence has attracted attention.
Red-tailed hawks, Swainson's hawks,
and peregrine falcons have come to hunt.
They are looking...
...for prey that stands out.
Some of these bats have over 15 years of experience.
But the new pups...
...don't yet know the dangers of flying alone
or on the outskirts.
Individuals fall each night.
But as a colony... they overwhelm the predators.
The bats of Bracken Cave support an entire ecosystem.
But their biggest impact is up to 100 miles away,
where they will consume over 150 tons
of agricultural pests every single night.
There are 32 different species in Texas
and hundreds of millions of bats.
Some night skies they fly under...
...are more special than others.
Of all the national parks in the Lower 48...
...Big Bend has the darkest skies.
Beneath this heavenly expanse...
...are the signs of hope.
These... are the marks of a black bear.
Bears were once killed out of Texas.
But across the border, in the high mountains of Mexico,
a population thrived.
In the 1980s, bears became a protected species in Texas.
And we waited... for their return.
In 1987, a female dispersed from Mexico...
...crossed the Rio Grande,
and made her home in Big Bend National Park.
Her pioneering instincts flow through the veins of our bears today...
...and their offspring.
This mama bear has taught her eight-month-old cubs
how to find food with each passing season.
In the fall, that means acorns.
It's slim pickings on the forest floor,
but... up above, there's a bounty.
And these cubs, they have a size advantage.
The very best acorns are those the big bears can't reach.
The higher the climb, the sweeter the reward.
Life is good in Big Bend National Park.
A century ago, these bears would have been hunted down.
Today... they can rest peacefully.
But the Chisos Mountains in Big Bend are relatively small,
and they are already filled to capacity.
Like their pioneer ancestors,
bears are dispersing from the national park.
They are seeking new mountain ranges in Texas.
A place to call home, where their ancestors once roamed.
But their path to recovery
is far from certain.
There are thousands of traps across Texas.
Set for our top predator.
The mountain lion.
Once found across the state,
populations now only exist in the remote canyons
and deep brush of South and West Texas.
Their territories are massive,
often over 100 square miles.
On average, they kill every seven to ten days.
Their prey can be several times their size.
And well-armed.
Some animals take shelter in the cliffs.
Or move as a herd to have more eyes on the lookout.
But water is scarce in the desert.
And prey must drink.
They must be wary...
...for they too...
...are prey.
On rare occasions, mountain lions will kill livestock.
And some hunters don't want another predator on the land.
But unlike other states,
where only problem cats are removed
and mountain lions are either protected or closely managed...
...in Texas, they can be trapped, snared,
and hunted year-round with no harvest limits
and no science-based management.
They can even be captured in cages
and sold in canned hunts.
In a West Texas study following 16 cats,
one was shot
and all of the remaining 15 were killed in traps.
It is not required to check the traps.
When caught,
it can take days to die
from dehydration and exposure.
Every step they take is a gamble.
And they are almost guaranteed...
...to lose.
This trap was dismantled by our camera team.
But there are thousands across Texas
that are armed right now.
Mountain lion traps do not discriminate...
...and can catch those...
...just searching for a new home.
The treatment of our mountain lions is from a bygone era.
In other states, they are either protected
or managed as a game animal
with controlled hunting seasons and harvest limits.
Texas can do the same.
There is no better proof of our ability
to change and live alongside the natural world...
...than in the Big Thicket and Piney Woods of East Texas.
One hundred years ago, this abandoned structure was a sawmill...
...where the old growth forests were cut apart and turned into lumber.
There are hundreds of sawmills like this.
By the early 1900s,
nearly all of the East Texas forest had been cut down.
As the last trees fell
and the top soil washed away,
small groups of bold Texans resolved to bring these forests back.
They shared a dream of a restored ecosystem
and were often met with ridicule and scorn.
Yet they persisted.
And their vision took root.
Over the course of decades, they slowly inspired landowners,
timber companies and our state and federal governments
to combine efforts and bring the forests back.
This... is their legacy.
Over a million acres of restored forest and preserves.
They have given us the greatest gift
a generation can leave behind.
A landscape healthier than they inherited...
...teeming with life.
The forests of East Texas average over four feet of rainfall a year.
So much that the rivers and creeks simply can't hold it all in.
As water spills over the banks,
it fills the oxbow lakes and sloughs.
Like a sponge, these wetlands
absorb the overflow and act as nature's flood control.
These are the conditions
that our largest freshwater fish have been waiting for.
This... is an alligator gar.
A female.
She is the size of an adult human and can live just as long.
She has left the safety of the river
and is following the floods.
These wetlands will provide the best opportunity for her offspring.
In a place free from other river predators.
She releases pheromones as she travels
for her suitors to follow.
And they have proven attractive.
With scales like a suit of armor,
she leads him further into the shallows.
She has likely waited five to ten years for the right conditions to spawn.
And she will release over 100,000 eggs
which the males fight to fertilize.
Her eggs will hatch in only two days
and the baby gar will be swept back into the river
as the floodwaters recede.
It is a life strategy so successful,
that alligator gar have lived here for 70 million years.
Our waterways are home to nearly 200 native Texas fish.
Over a dozen are found nowhere else.
They have evolved for natural water flow,
which has been disrupted.
We have lost one half of our wetlands in Texas,
which act as nature's flood control.
They are often replaced by concrete,
which increases the flooding downstream.
To mitigate flooding,
over 7000 dams have been constructed...
...which also irrigate crops,
generate electricity, and supply our cities.
The reservoirs dams create are exposed to the sun.
During the drought of 2011,
more water was lost to evaporation
than was used by all of our cities combined.
The impact to our watersheds is so great
that hundreds of miles of our rivers no longer flow.
And one half of our native fish species are imperiled.
We depend on the same water.
And we are making progress.
In the last 30 years, the average water use per Texan
has been cut by a quarter.
Landscaping with native plants,
improving irrigation technology, storing water underground,
and increasing efficiency has potential to save much more.
Scientists are finding ways to release water from dams
that allow our native fish to spawn.
And some dams that are no longer useful can be taken down.
Conserving water is crucial...
...for flowing rivers are the arteries of Texas...
...and the lifeblood of our bays and estuaries.
Our coastline is unique due to a distinctive geography.
Texas is protected by barrier islands and peninsulas.
When salt water from the Gulf passes through them,
it combines with the fresh water and nutrients from our rivers...
...creating an underwater prairie of grass
that attracts life from across the hemisphere.
The migrations that come through our coastline are so vast
that the second highest passage rate
of migratory birds on Earth,
was recorded right here in Texas.
These coastal marshes are also home to a master of ambush.
Alligators.
Islands along the coast provide crucial habitat for colonial waterbirds
to build nests and raise their chicks.
As the youngsters grow,
they begin to explore their surroundings...
...creating an opportunity for those with patience.
Below the surface,
the mixture of fresh and salt water
creates a nursery for the Gulf.
Like many coastal species,
redfish are born as eggs in the ocean
and swept into the bays by incoming tides.
As juveniles, they hunt these shallows
until they grow large enough for life at sea.
In September of their third year,
a biological urge triggers them to congregate,
and to begin their migration.
Driven by instinct and following the tides,
they are swimming to the ocean to live out their adult lives.
With them, flow nutrients from across Texas.
Transported by our rivers,
the gift of fresh water reaches the Gulf of Mexico.
For the first few leagues offshore, sediment clouds the water.
But with distance and depth,
the Gulf reveals her true color.
This deep blue world seems far from our own,
yet nutrients from our bays and estuaries
fuel much of the plankton...
...which are the building blocks of life in the Gulf.
In a few very special places,
salt domes have risen from the seafloor
and combined with tropical currents from the south.
Here, this plankton fuels the Texas Caribbean...
...the Flower Garden Banks National Marine Sanctuary.
Each of these corals is composed of millions of polyps.
Each polyp feeds on the plankton.
It is an oasis of life...
...in a desert of blue.
We are still unraveling the mysteries that abound here.
What we've learned thus far...
...is nearly beyond imagination.
Shortly after the sunset,
during the week after the full moon in August,
one of nature's most remarkable events unfolds.
The corals...
...are spawning.
We do not know how they communicate,
but in unison, millions of coral polyps
release and fertilize their offspring.
This seemingly alien world exists far from our daily consciousness.
Yet it is connected in ways that we are just beginning to understand.
In the next 30 years, our population is projected
to increase from 30 million to 50 million Texans.
Urban areas are expanding,
landscapes are subdividing
as ranches split with the generations.
And energy demand is consuming millions of acres.
Climate change will bring more severe droughts,
weather variability, and hurricanes.
Some of our rivers are entirely consumed
and no longer flow to the sea during drought years.
We've lost a quarter of our birds in the last 50 years.
And there are 69 species that are state endangered
and 148 that are threatened.
Their future is our choice.
And there is reason for hope.
From the Piney Woods to the Trans-Pecos,
there is living proof
that we have the ability to recover
and live alongside wildlife.
There is proof that our votes can conserve landscapes and water,
that our backyards can be habitat for incredible migrations,
and that endangered species can thrive on working ranches.
Every single Texas river has advocates.
And every ecoregion has land owners and organizations
working to improve the habitat.
Thousands of Texans have dedicated their lives, careers,
and money to restore our wildlife
and preserve our wild places.
Yet there is still so much to be done.
There has never been a greater need or opportunity...
...to conserve our unique ecosystem.
And there's never been a people...
...who love their home...
...as much as Texans.