All language subtitles for Rooted.Series.1.3of5.The.Giant.1080p.HDTV.x264.AAC.MVGroup.org.eng

(♪♪♪)

Nestled at the foot
of these sheer cliffs

is a wild
and overgrown terrain,

shards of light

the only solace
in a dark, dank world.

(♪♪♪)

Rooted here
lives a giant,

a 600-year-old
Outeniqua Yellowwood.

(♪♪♪)

Towering 35 meters
above the forest floor,

…it is the tallest
native tree in South Africa.

From its topmost branches

to the ground below,

the Giant provides
shelter and food

to those that hide
amongst its branches.

(♪♪♪)

For centuries the Titan
has seen life come and go.

What secrets does it
hold in its boughs?

It is the keeper of tales
in this ancient realm.

(♪♪♪)

This is the Soutpansberg,

the rugged backbone
to the Limpopo province

in the northern most corner
of South Africa.

The Giant Yellowwood
rules over this jungle.

It’s regent of the mountains.

March marks the end of summer
in the Soutpansberg.

At first glance,
this Eden seems deserted,

but it’s easy for life here

to hide in the
overgrown thicket.

The echoing chatter of birds

provides the only solace

that breaks
the haunting silence.

A booming call

joins the ceaseless
chorus of bird-song.

The canopy is home
to South Africa’s only

exclusively forest
dwelling primate,

the Samango monkey.

Notoriously skittish,

it’s a rare treat

to catch a glimpse
of this shy forest resident.

It has a large family,

thirty-eight members.

Within this troop
is a single breeding male

who presides over his
harem of females

and their offspring.

The Samangos are drawn
to what is referred to

as the Yellowwood’s ‘fruit’.

But fruits come from flowers,

and there are
none of those here.

Outeniqua Yellowwoods

belong to an ancient family
of trees called conifers,

which evolved long before

flowering plants appeared
on the planet.

Instead

they produce male
and female cones,

found on separate trees.

Only females produce
this so-called fruit.

This giant

is in fact

queen of the forest.

One year since her
cones were pollinated,

clusters of succulent,
yellow fruit

now hang
from her branches.

Less than two centimeters
in diameter,

they have quite
a resinous flavor.

Still, birds and other animals

enjoy their taste,

and flock
to the yellowwood’s branches.

(♪♪♪)

The monkeys’ discarded seeds
and chewed fruit chunks

fall to the forest floor.

(♪♪♪)

Crested Guineafowl

greedily peck at the scraps.

During fruiting season,

the Yellowwood,
helped by the monkeys,

serves a banquet
of discarded fruit

to the flock.

In fact,

monkeys and guineafowl
often forage together,

the birds scavenging

on the primates’
rejected leftovers.

There’s another benefit
to this odd coupling…

more eyes
to look out for predators,

both on the ground,

and up above.

(♪♪♪)

In these warm
summer months

the Samangos welcome
new members into their troop.

A female usually
only gives birth

to one infant a year,

not taking her eyes off it

for the first month of its life.

A youngster desperately
clings to his mother

as she clambers
through the forest

in search of food.

His mother relies
on the nutrients

from the Yellowwood’s fruit

to produce her milk,

a supply
she will need to maintain

as she nurses him
over the next two years.

But monkeys and Guineafowl

aren’t the only ones
to reap the Queen’s rewards.

From her branches

a hollow call
echoes through the forest.

Purple-crested Turacos

eat almost exclusively fruit

and frequently visit the giant
in fruiting season.

Their glossy, colorful plumage

is a sight to behold,

with beautiful crimson
flight feathers.

But they’re not
the greatest of fliers.

Instead they nimbly run
on branches in the canopy,

(♪♪♪)

bounding and gliding
from limb to limb.

(♪♪♪)

Turacos and other
fruit-eating birds

disperse the Giant’s seeds

all over the forest.

(♪♪♪)

Darkness descends

over the mountain.

(♪♪♪)

Wandering stars ignite
the evening sky.

For six centuries,

this titan amongst trees

has stood witness
to this cosmic wonder.

(♪♪♪)

Creatures of the night stir.

(♪♪♪)

Amongst them,

a woodland dormouse
is out on the prowl.

Usually the bushy-tailed
scavenger

forages in the treetops,

but tonight

it’s rummaging

between the fallen
Yellowwood fruit

for a tasty tidbit,

all the while

cautiously listening

for danger.

It finds its prize,

a discarded
Yellowwood seed.

The mouse gnaws at the seed,

ruining any change

of it taking root.

(♪♪♪)

As life in the forest wakes,

the Crested Guineafowl
stir in the treetops

all around the Yellowwood.

These peculiar birds
roost in the forest canopy

where they are beyond
the reach of danger.

It’s May,

Autumn mornings

are chilly up here
amongst the leaves,

and the flock
abandons its roost

to go forage
beneath the Yellowwood.

The family is a social bunch,

constantly communicating

to stay in range of each other.

A male dominates this community,

a role he claimed

and maintains

by being the fittest cock

with the most endurance.

He keeps a blood-red eye

on his flock of thirty

from a perch.

When it comes
to searching for food,

one has to admire
their persistence.

(♪♪♪)

They spend most of the day

scrounging through leaf litter

to unearth seeds,

(♪♪♪)

digging for roots and bulbs,

and scratching and scraping

to uncover a juicy morsel

like a spider

or a millipede.

In Autumn

the flock has to work
a little harder for their food.

The Yellowwood’s
summer fruit

is a distant memory.

But the forest is full
of hidden treasures;

you just need to know
where to look.

(♪♪♪)

A piercing shriek

abruptly ends
the peace and quiet

of the morning
treasure hunt.

A male Hyrax,

also known as a Dassie,

is responsible
for this shrill cry.

His territorial calls

defend the Yellowwood
year-round,

but,
fall being mating season,

they’re much more
frequent now.

He’s guarding his den,

a collection of large boulders

in the shade of the Giant.

Hidden among them

is his harem;

He reins over a colony
of 17 females

and their offspring.

A rival male

threatens him
with quick posturing.

But it doesn’t take much

to intimidate this interloper…

he’s no match

for this seasoned champion.

With dorsal hairs
standing on end,

a second challenger

confronts the ruler
of this rock.

But he doesn’t have
what it takes either.

Another standoff,

and this time

his opponent tries
to intimidate him

by grinding

his molars.

That shook him up a bit.

Better for the dominant male

to stand down

than lose his den.

Don’t be deceived
by its name.

The Rock Hyrax
is a master tree climber,

and it often takes
to the trees

to forage.

As the hyrax moves
along the branches

it relies on the thick,

rubbery soles on its feet

to get a good grip.

The inner toe
on each hind foot

serves as a
long grooming claw.

The Dassie uses this,

along with four
comb-like incisors,

to scratch almost
any part of its body.

Although the Dassie
may look like a rodent

its closest living relative

could not seem
more different…

the African Elephant…

their close relationship

determined by
the similar structure

of their feet and teeth.

This colony

has lived
in the rocky crevices

close to the Yellowwood

for generations…

perhaps even witnessing

the first growth
of its seed.

One den in South Africa

was found
to have urine layers

dating back

55,000 years.

This ancient forest

can be a claustrophobic world.

Even the spans

between the trees
are occupied.

All around the yellowwood,

veils of silk

drape between branches,

gleaming in the sunlight.

(♪♪♪)

A kite spider,

dangerously beautiful

with crab-like spines,

meticulously cleans its web.

But the Queen

cradles an even
greater jewel

in her upper reaches.

Here, one of Africa’s
most striking orb weavers,

the Darwin’s Bark spider,

has spun her web.

(♪♪♪)

With the toughest silk
ever seen,

ten times stronger
than Kevlar,

these spiders spin

some of the largest webs
found in nature,

covering almost
three-square meters.

The key to this
extraordinary strength

is the silk’s elasticity,

twice as resilient

as other orb-spinners’ webs.

(♪♪♪)

Insects stand little chance

of escaping such a masterpiece.

(♪♪♪)

When a second victim

finds its way into her web,

she gently plucks the thread

to make sure
there is something there.

(♪♪♪)

She injects digestive fluids
into her prey’s body,

dissolving it from the inside.

(♪♪♪)

And bit-by-bit,

from head to toe,

she drains her quarry…

every last drop.

All this happens on a web

30 meters
off the ground,

within the Giant’s embrace.

(♪♪♪)

With Winter around the corner,

the Giant is no longer
the generous provider

she once was.

For now her branches
hold neither cones

nor fruit.

The Samango monkeys

have to look for food elsewhere,

their movement confined

to a 46-hectare
stretch of forest

around the Yellowwood.

Luckily,
there’s plenty to choose from

in the jungle.

They shove sugar rich fruit

into their cheek pouches,

to consume at a later stage

in a less exposed part
of the forest.

(♪♪♪)

Leaves also make it
onto the menu…

but a female hits the jackpot,

a praying mantis…

a juicy delicacy.

Even better than the mantis

are caterpillars.

The hairy ones burn

and need to be handled
with care.

She rubs the insect on a branch

to get rid of the stinging
hairs…

maybe this wasn’t
such a good idea.

(♪♪♪)

Fruit digests
in the monkey’s stomach,

while leaves ferment in a pocket

attached to its colon.

Related females

form the social core
of the troop,

passing their knowledge
of the best fruiting trees

onto their young.

For these monkeys

there’s little need
to leave this small patch

of lush, green paradise,

and they will brutally defend
their fruiting trees

against rival troops.

With the onset of Winter,

the Samangos will have
to be even more vigilant

as food will become scant

in the months ahead.

(♪♪♪)

The Soutpansberg

lies at the meeting point
of several biomes,

as thick indigenous forests

merge with grassland
from the south

and dry Savanna

from the north.

In June

a hodgepodge of spicy,
sweet fragrances

hangs thick
in the cold Winter air

as blooming aloes and shrubs

transform the rocky grassland

just outside the forest.

Home to two thirds

of the country’s
birds and mammals,

the area encompassing
the Soutpansberg Mountains

holds more life

than anywhere else
in South Africa.

(♪♪♪)

(♪♪♪)

This is her domain;

she rules this kingdom.

(♪♪♪)

But the queen
does not stand alone,

she has a king;

behind the giant

is another yellowwood…

her male counterpart.

Despite being much smaller
than his female companion,

he is still a magnificent tree.

His branches

bear light green
male cones.

These slender
catkin-like cones

have been developing
for the last 18 months,

but they still aren’t ready
to release their pollen.

This morning

is bitterly cold
inside the forest,

the temperature hovering

just below
5 degrees Celsius.

The boulders
underneath the Yellowwood

bake in patches
of shifting sunlight,

it’s the perfect spot

for a Dassie
to bask in the heat.

And stretching out

on a high sunny branch

is never
too much trouble.

Because of its
low metabolism,

it’s difficult for a hyrax

to control its
body temperature,

so lying in the sun

helps to thaw

cold stiff limbs.

On chilly mornings like these,

it increases its heartbeat

to 160 beats per minute

to warm up.

When the Hyrax
gets too hot,

panting helps it cool down

through the evaporation
of saliva.

It can breathe

up to 200 breaths
per minute.

The Dassie has evolved

into a somewhat
lazy creature,

it spends ninety-five percent
of its day

sunbathing

or resting…

an eternity
for a herbivore.

The Samango monkeys

also seek out the sun

to bask in its warmth…

it makes for lazy downtime.

Living in a forest,

one’s likely to collect
a few ticks and fleas.

It’s a real nuisance

when all one wants to do

is bake in the sun.

Sometimes a monkey

just needs more hands.

Fortunately,

a troop-mate makes up
for this shortcoming.

In the Samango troop,

everyone is regarded
as a friend,

and grooming

reaffirms those friendships.

The alpha male enjoys
more grooming attention

from his harem of females

than any other troop member,

a sign of their devotion.

Social grooming ensures
peace within the troop

and aggression is rare.

It’s the good life;

the troop has nothing
to worry about.

Little do these
sunbathers realize

that two
of their biggest enemies

have moved back

into the neighborhood.

A pair of Crowned Eagles

has been using this nest

for many years,

each year adding
more material to it

resulting

in the monstrous structure

it is today.

But it’s not their only nest;

the queen cradles a second,

which the pair used last season

to raise a single chick.

This year
they’ve chosen instead

to nest in a
White Stinkwood tree

on the edge of the forest.

The raptors aren’t afraid

to make their presence known,

calling to each other
at the nest,

and soon

both the monkeys
and the dassies

are aware of the threat
in the vicinity.

Crowned eagles

are the most powerful
eagles in Africa,

killing animals

up to five times
their own weight,

crushing skulls

and breaking spines
with long talons.

Their wingspan stretches
almost two meters across,

a formidable predator

for any small furry animal.

With spring around the corner,

they’ve laid one egg.

The female stays behind
on the nest to incubate it,

while the male goes off

to hunt for her.

A Samango’s alarm call

scatters the monkeys
and hyraxes,

all running for cover.

In the confusion,

someone is missing.

Back on the nest

the female waits anxiously
for her partner to return.

Success!

She greedily pecks at his gift;

a young Hyrax.

Spring offers little relief

from the dry September heat.

The rain will only arrive

at the end of the season.

The Giant is susceptible
to this drought;

it needs a good deal of water.

Instead of only shallow roots

penetrating the soil
to capture rainwater,

it sends a taproot,

deep into the earth.

This longer taproot

has its own
extensive root system

to seek out different
sources of moisture.

Less than one kilometer away,

up on the plateau,

the mountain blesses the forest

with the bounty of run off
from higher altitudes.

Like veins,

these small rivers

carry the thicket’s life-blood
through the Yellowwood’s forest.

On and on it flows,

the current bringing life

to every rift and crevice.

In the blinding light

of the September afternoon

the stream

is like a
semi-molten mirror.

It quenches the thirst

of many of the Soutpansberg’s
plants and animals.

Where pools form,

Whirligig beetles swim
on the water’s surface.

They scavenge for trapped
or floating insects,

performing what appears to be

an elaborate aquatic ballet.

A common river frog

watches for prey on the bank.

With powerful hind legs

and a fair amount of webbing
between the toes,

it’s perfectly adapted

to hunt

in this waterlogged
environment.

Its distinct call,

a croak

and rattle,

announces its presence to
rivals,

“this is my stalking ground”.

A damselfly
also hunts along this stream.

It’s drawn by midges,

mayflies and mosquitos

that frequent these waters.

All this aerial master has to do

is pluck them from the air.

Another damselfly

uses his tail

to keep a firm grip
on the female

he’s just mated with…

preventing other suitors

from removing his sperm

to insert their own.

Only when she’s laid her eggs

is his posterity ensured.

She deposits them underwater

in slits

she cuts in the stems
of water plants.

Once done,

she must dry off

before she can continue
on her journey.

The stream flows like time,

always onward.

The Giant

draws strength
from the nutrient rich waters.

The wet, fertile soil

has made this Yellowwood

the awe-inspiring colossus
it is today.

But the queen’s reign

is threatened.

A usurper is tightening its grip

around her throne.

An imposter…

slowly depriving her
of nourishment.

For years this strangler fig

has been making its way
up her trunk

with a network
of aerial roots.

The fig puts out
a lush canopy of leaves

that rob the Queen
of her sunlight.

Each day it tightens its grip,

slowly squeezing the life

from its unwilling host.

It is a fatal embrace,

one that will eventually

topple the giant.

(♪♪♪)

Once again

change

comes over the Soutpansberg.

Clouds gather on the horizon.

A storm is brewing.

Electricity is in the air.

(♪♪♪)

The forest seems uneasy.

With the arrival of rain,

spring ends.

(♪♪♪)

The November downpour

restores the landscape

to its true splendor…

enveloping the Yellowwood

in a white haze.

The Samangos

despise
wet days like this,

and they choose
not to forage

too far from the Giant;

she’s their sanctuary.

Even though they’re drenched,

they carry on
with their daily business.

The guineafowl
don’t seem troubled by the rain.

A Forest Rain Frog,

endemic to this area,

stumbles onto
their feeding ground.

Many a guineafowl
have fought

over such a delicacy.

But they somehow

fail to notice
the lumbering amphibian

and he makes
a quick getaway.

(♪♪♪)

It’s rare for the hyraxes

to forage in the
middle of the day

when temperatures are highest;

they’re making the best

of the gloomy weather.

They take to the trees

to relish the burst
of fresh new foliage.

Dassies can eat
almost any vegetation.

Even the forest’s
most hardy morsels

are no match
for the symbiotic bacteria

that fill their
three chambered stomachs,

allowing them to break down

an impressive variety of plants.

Agile climbers,

these acrobats will balance
on the thinnest branches

to get to the juiciest leaves…

Which leads to some

precarious situations.

(♪♪♪)

December is the wet season
in the Soutpansberg.

It’s a sultry and humid place,

mist dancing between
peaks and crags.

(♪♪♪)

These mountains

have one of the
highest rainfalls

recorded in South Africa,

with an average

of almost 1900mm
of rain per year.

(♪♪♪)

The forests in the valleys
of the mountain

thrive on all this
moisture in the air.

(♪♪♪)

On the Yellowwood’s branches

lichens and epiphytes
soak up water from the fog.

(♪♪♪)

Although it’s not raining,

the mist produces
an incessant drip

inside the forest.

Everything is soaked through.

(♪♪♪)

As the sun
makes an appearance,

light sparkles through
droplets

caught by
the Yellowwood’s epiphytes.

Orchids…

Ferns...

and succulents,

like the lemon bean bush,

all grow amongst
the giant’s leaves.

But most noticeable

between
the Yellowwood’s branches

are Usneae,

also known as
“Old Man’s Beard”.

This lichen doesn’t
damage the tree,

but grows symbiotically
with its host plant.

The beard-like growth

is actually two organisms
living together,

an algae

and a fungus.

Sensitive to pollution,

the grey-green tassels

thrive on the clean air
in the Soutpansberg.

Close to the Yellowwood,

a delicate rasping call

disrupts the calm
of the forest.

It’s a female
Paradise Flycatcher

and she’s very agitated.

Her mate looks on

from another branch.

Unlike her,

he has long,
beautiful tail feathers.

(♪♪♪)

African Paradise Flycatchers

are usually noisy birds,

but today the couple seems
particularly perturbed.

And here is why.

This is not a branch…

it’s an African Vine Snake.

Its ability to freeze,

imitating a twig,

makes it hard to spot…

but the flycatchers
don’t miss a thing.

Their nest must be close by.

The tiny snake
is extremely venomous

and is potentially fatal
to humans.

No anti-venom exists.

A small bird
like the flycatcher

stands no chance.

As the days
grow even warmer,

summer begins to transform
the Yellowwood.

In January,

the giant sprouts
a flourish of new leaves.

The tender,
light green shoots

stand out boldly
against her usual dark foliage…

but this

is just the beginning.

On the male yellowwood,

two years
since they first emerged,

the cones have turned brown

and have released
their precious pollen.

All that is left

is a white,
powdery residue

on the cones spiraling scales.

The pollen
floats on the wind…

a fertile dust

that delicately
drifts towards her,

the female Yellowwood.

It settles on the giant’s
newly developed cones,

pollenating them.

These smooth,
spherical cones

will take about a year
to develop

into fleshy fruit,

each

holding a
precious woody seed.

Perhaps one,

centuries from now,

will grow to the size
of this Titan.

Seconds or minutes,

even hours

are inconsequential
to the Queen.

For this ancient giant,

seasons come

and go in the
blink of an eye.

Even before European explorers
discovered Southern Africa,

this mighty
Outeniqua Yellowwood

sheltered life

in the safety
of her branches.

But she is a rare survivor.

Logging
is decimating her species.

Fewer than 10 percent

of old,
giant Yellowwoods remain.

And as her rarity rises,

so too does her price,

making her timber

an ever more
sought after bounty.

(♪♪♪)

This Giant

is one of a handful
of Yellowwood trees

more than 500 years old

still standing.

She’s now protected
in South Africa,

but the future of her saplings

still hangs in the balance.