The modern primates are descendents of those first mammals, those tiny insectivores that
hid in the jungles of Gondwana. Today, they have colonised all the continents, and the
most adaptable species of all, man, has conquered the entire planet.
In South America, still separated from the lands to the north, the primates were isolated
and produced the so-called New World monkeys, such as the howlers and these capuchin monkeys.
But in Africa and Asia a group which scientists have called Old World monkeys, culminated
in the appearance of man and the large modern pongids: the chimpanzees, the African gorillas
and the agile orang-utans of south east Asia.
The large simians, up to then the most intelligent animals in creation, had developed from ancestral
primates subjected to constant processes of natural selection in permanent competition
with other species.
But at a time when mammals had not even begun to develop their incredible capacity for generating
new species, Madagascar had separated from Africa and had remained isolated in the Indian
Ocean. How then can we explain the existence there of the enigmatic pro-simians which we
now call lemurs?
A broad-billed roller stands watchful guard in the Analamazaotra jungle, in the east of
Madagascar. For the birds, it was easy to fly to the island, crossing over the Mozambique
Channel, but when they arrived, they found Madagascar already had other inhabitants.
And some of their descendents are those this roller is observing.
Today, there are almost 85 species of snake in Madagascar. When the island formed, among
the snakes that remained here there was not a single poisonous one, and their descendents
to this day remain loyal to their origins. But what worries the roller, which has just
completed its nest, is not the poison. Almost all Madagascan snakes like eggs, and some
have developed into skilful climbers.
This Ithycyphus, which the locals call the “fandrefiala” is one of the most agile
tree-climbing snakes in the jungles of Madagascar. Despite the thorny bark that surrounds the
nest of the roller, the snake climbs up, testing the air with its forked tongue.
But what the Ithycyphus does not know is that the mother is watching his every move, and
it is one thing to steal the eggs from a nest, quite another to challenge a broad-billed
determined to defend her offspring.
When Madagascar became an island, the animals in its interior adapted to the conditions
of its different ecosystems in order to avoid falling prey to the enemies that shared their
isolation. And one of the most effective adaptations of all was camouflage.
The constant vigilance of the roller detects a small gecko. These inoffensive reptiles
were one of the groups that chose camouflage. But in the jungles of Madagascar, you need
to be constantly on the alert, because your enemies too may have learnt to hide.
Looking just like a branch moved by the wind, this hognose snake knows how to wait patiently,
trusting in its extraordinary disguise.
Among the dense vegetation, death slowly approaches its prey, advancing slightly then freezing,
again turning into a branch, while the roller, knowing her eggs are safe, is a silent witness
to the drama unfolding below.
The gecko feels safe among the leaves and, without realising, stands right in the jaws
of its mortal enemy. And in the isolated world of Lemuria there are no second chances.
The hognose snake is not poisonous and so cannot rapidly kill its prey, and has to attempt
to choke it or swallow it alive.
Little by little, the hunter moves the head of its prey into a position which makes it
possible to begin swallowing it.
The gecko fights with the last strength of desperation, because once its head is inside the snake
it will be impossible for it to breathe and it will die. A futile struggle. The hognose
snake now holds it firm, and is an expert hunter. It knows time is on its side, and
again it waits. Now, its prey cannot breathe and realises its strength is running out.
Before it has been swallowed entirely, the little gecko will already have died.