The first shafts of sunlight begin to penetrate into the depths of the tropical rainforest. The haunting sounds of night are giving way to the dawn chorus of birds. Squawks, trills, and whistles echo through the vast leafy spaces, but almost never is a bird seen. It is time for the great hunter of the night to find a secluded place to curl up for the day. For a moment, the golden glow catches the proud feline head as the eyes gaze through the complex tangle of the world that is his domain. - Robert Bateman