All language subtitles for Tales From Zambia Series 1 5of7 The River Troop 1080p

Family.

It’s everything,

the bond that binds
baboons together.

But life in the River Troop
becomes complicated when a new
baby arrives.

And the struggle to lead,
becomes a matter of life
and death.

Nobody is safe.

For one family at
the bottom of the
troop’s social ladder

growing up is
particularly hard.

The young male of the family
faces violence and tragedy.

(GROWLING)

He has a decision ahead.

Should he leave his family
behind to fight his own way
in the world?

This is the story of his
family, his troop, and his
coming-of-age.

The Luangwa River in Zambia
draws Africa’s wildlife to its
banks.

In South Luangwa National Park
lives the River Troop

comprised of about 80
baboons in 20 families,

living in a home range
of a mile or two
along the riverbank.

The River Troop is hanging out
in its favorite ebony glade.

There’s fresh excitement.

Several families each
have a newborn baby.

They’re born pink with black
hair and are helpless.

For the first few weeks they
never leave their mother’s
arms, and are fed and groomed.

Baboons love babies.

(BABY SQUEAKING)

Some are carried
around like royalty.

Others are loved by mothers
that can’t let go.

Family affections are
the core of baboon life.

One family is the center of
everyone’s attention,

the top of the troop’s
social ladder.

But others are not so lucky.

Within the River Troop, this
baby’s family is looked down
on by the other monkeys.

They are at the bottom
of the hierarchy.

The eldest son is eight,
almost adult.

He’s loyal, looks after his
lowborn mother,

and is protective of his
new baby brother.

At the other end of society, a
gaggle of females attends the
high-born family,

taking turns to groom
the mother and admire
the baby girl.

In baboons, social standing
passes down the female line,
mother to daughter.

The baboon aristocracy
is pampered,

and the babies become
confident and healthy.

She’s lucky. Everyone wants to
be friends with royalty.

The ignobles are ignored.

The lowly mother must
go to pay homage.

She tries to hold the
high-born baby girl.

The baby’s keen,

but her mother doesn’t want
her little princess playing
with the riffraff.

Both babies learn their place
right from the start.

After a brush-off
from the queen,

the lowly mother makes
way for the next in line.

Put in her place, she finds
some elephant dung to sift
through for undigested seeds.

(BABOONS SQUAWKING)

The leading males are
ranked by strength not
inherited status.

The alpha fought his way up
from outside,

and now dominates the adult
males who all defend the
troop from danger.

Hyenas could be trouble, but
in fact they don’t pose much
of a threat to the baboons.

They can’t climb trees.

Lions aren’t good
climbers either.

The local pride, even with
cubs, usually leaves
the baboons alone...

(GROWLS)

...and the lions do
what lions do best. Sleep.

Others are attracted
to the baboons.

The local vegetarians feel
safer surrounded

by the intelligent and
observant primate.

Baboons become the
neighborhood watch, posting
high sentries with sharp eyes.

The baboons also know the best
feeding trees.

Today it’s winter thorn, a
reliable dry season acacia,

with pods like
dried apple rings.

Impala follow the troop like
a herd of sheep after
their shepherds.

They eat fallen pods,
an unintended gift
from the monkeys.

This relationship benefits
both species.

Impala have a keener sense
of smell and the extra eyes
help keep lookout.

Puku and bushbuck
often join the team.

The whole circus is led by a
dominant male baboon.

His focus is mainly on the
females of the River Troop.

He sees them as his, and he
fathers most of the young.

Despite this, the majority of
other males each have a
friendship with a favorite

female, and will look out for
her and her baby.

Maybe each is duped into
thinking he’s the father,

or hopes he will be next time.

These doting males
are called Godfathers.

This way, the babies
get extra protection.

But not this one.

The lowly family doesn’t
have a Godfather, only
the eldest son.

He’s reached a crossroads.

Males normally leave their
troop at about his age.

But his little brother needs
his protection, and there’s
no one else.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(GRUNTING)

Each male, newborn
and older brother,

born at the bottom of the
hierarchy, could fight their
way to the top,

but that would
be very difficult.

The older brother’s only
escape is to abandon his
family and his troop,

and in doing so, he’d leave
his lowly past behind.

(SQUAWKING)

His coming-of-age, and
departure from the troop will
be influenced by his family,

his confidence, and his
experiences growing up here.

The young juveniles in the
troop have formed a gang, like
a school creche.

(SQUAWKING)

Their acrobatics are a game
like King of the Hill.

They have the social rank of
their mothers, but their games
reflect and refine who’s high,

and who’s low,

who’s strongest,

and who’s bravest.

Like every playground, there’s
one who’s often left out.

The newest member of the elite
is given a ride to bed.

The late afternoon cools down,
and it becomes a more
dangerous time.

Leopards emerge.

Unlike hyenas and lions
these predators are
excellent climbers.

(MAKES BARKING SOUND)

(YELPING)

(YELPS)

(MAKES BARKING SOUND)

The whole troop reacts
to the alarm.

(SQUEALING)

(BARKING SOUND CONTINUES)

This troop in Luangwa has to
deal with one of the highest

densities of leopards
in the world.

(GRUNTS)

It’s a big male leopard...

(LOW GROWLING)

but he doesn’t seem
hungry for baboon.

(BABOONS SQUAWKING)

(BARKING SOUND CONTINUES)

(BARKING SOUNDS INTENSIFY)

The troop always roosts in
high trees.

Up here they’re safe from
lions and hyenas at least.

The same is true of roosting
guinea fowl.

The gang of youngsters chases
these chicken-like birds

around until it’s
too dark to see.

(BABOONS CHATTERING)

The baboons find a safe
support, and go to sleep.

Now the leopard
makes his move.

The baboons can’t see a thing.

(BABOON SQUEALING)

He’s got one.

He climbs down before the male
baboons can attack.

(BABOONS SQUAWKING)

He drops his meal,
and follows it down.

(BABOONS SQUAWKING)

(BABOONS CHATTERING)

Dawn reveals the lowly
eight-year-old male
sitting on his own.

(SQUAWKING)

His mother and little brother
are alive, nearby, terrified.

(SQUAWKING)

At the foot of the tree,
the little princess, alone.

Her world is turned
upside down.

Her high-ranking mother
is dead.

Without her mother, her noble
birth means little.

(SQUEALING)

She needs her mother’s milk,
she’s too young to survive
without it,

and there’s nothing any of the
others can do.

She won’t last long.

One of the baboons’ favorite
trees for breakfast is the
sausage tree.

The monkeys are drawn to the
flowers for their nectar.

Primates tend to have
a sweet tooth.

The baboons aren’t the only
monkeys here.

Pint-sized vervet monkeys
have got to the flowers
first today.

Lillian’s lovebirds live here

and tree squirrels.

Vervets don’t trust the
bigger baboons, and they
leave in alarm.

Hands are incredibly useful.

It may have been early
monkeys that found delicate
flowers and fruit

needed thumbs
rather than claws.

Like sweet wrappings, they
drop the flowers to the floor.

A disturbed night and a feast
on nectar, justify a siesta.

Like many mammals, they dream,

their eyes tracking the dramas
of their imagination.

The juveniles get bored and
wake everyone up.

(LOUD SQUAWKING)

The troop heads for an
afternoon by the river.

It’s the dry season, and the
falling river level exposes
sandbanks,

and some seasonal treats.

Getting there requires courage
and gymnastics.

Despite its nickname,
the River Troop isn’t
keen on water.

Crocs live here.

After the males and
youngsters, a new
alpha mother leads,

followed by the more nervous
lowborn family.

The stay-at-home son is last,
but clears the water in one
giant leap.

Buried in the sand are
freshwater crabs and frogs.

Birds like skimmers and
plovers hide their eggs
on the sand too.

(BABOONS CHATTERING)

The river soon gets busy,
and the troop returns
to the woodland.

The River Troop has one
of the best territories
along the Luangwa,

and it’s fiercely fought over.

Outsiders hang around the
fringes, males looking to
take over the troop.

One is spotted.

The alarm goes up.

(BARKING)

An immigrant male wanting to
take over from the alpha may
even kill the babies.

Fights for dominance can take
days, and may be very violent.

To start with, it’s all
bellowing and showing
off teeth.

(GROWLING AND CHATTERING)

Numbers are against the
challenger, but the troop
males don’t coordinate well,

or put up much of a fight.

(BABOONS SQUAWKING)

There’s a lull.

The old king is
not defeated yet.

This will be the first of many
skirmishes to see whether the

intruder can finally
establish dominance.

The males regroup nervously.

The lowly eight-year-old male
is very upset.

(GRUNTING)

And little wonder,

his baby brother is dead.

The intruding male may have
killed him intentionally.

But males also use babies in
fights as a defensive shield.

Nobody attacks someone
holding a baby

but the infants can get
hurt in the process.

The young male is distraught
and the other males work
together to calm him down.

He’s a subordinate and
they try to control his
aggressive instincts.

So while one male
challenges him,

two hold him back,

while they stroke and sooth
him with reassuring noises.

(BLEATING)

He knows his place at the
bottom of the social ladder.

Eventually he calms, and his
guards let him go.

Primates are amazing at
adapting to circumstances.

After the leopard attack, the
troop moves its roost.

That night, they sleep
over a hyena den.

(BABOONS SQUAWKING)

The hyenas are no threat to
them up in the trees,

and they will deter leopards
from nosing around.

Baboons have
surprising friends.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

The lowly male has no baby
brother to look after now,

and remains dominated
by the other males.

The remaining mothers and
babies are tense.

It’s time for a decision.

He just walks away.

He leaves his family behind to
find another troop to join.

He’s facing a whole new world.

At first the
riverbank is familiar,

including the skimmers,
who dive-bomb him to
protect their nests.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

Living alone is
very different.

He’s got no lookouts.

Nobody to tell him
lions are on the bank.

He’s naturally cautious, a
good thing with lions around.

He finds a sausage tree.

The impala and puku
are like old friends.

But they don’t follow
him as he continues.

He roosts in a tall tree.

It’s his first
night all alone.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

The next morning, a herd of
puku is working out who will

lead the harem of
females this year.

The young male heads away from
the river into woodland beyond
the River Troop’s home range.

There are lines of trees,
groves of ebony and acacia.

He spent eight years
learning one world,
and now he’s in another.

In the distant trees,
a familiar sound,
vervet monkeys.

(CHATTERING)

Vervets all give birth
in synchrony, more so
than baboons.

The newborns are tiny,

and, like the baboons,
their fur is darker at first.

The whole troop adores the
babies, and the vervet aunts

and cousins all want
to play with them.

They’re very excited.

(VERVETS SQUEALING)

The mothers see the lone male
baboon and are nervous.

Baboons occasionally kill
vervets to eat.

Vervets are more nervous than
baboons generally.

They have more to worry about.

At under half the
size of baboons,

vervets are more vulnerable
to venomous scorpions,

big spiders,

and worst of all, snakes.

Birds of prey could
take a little monkey.

(SQUAWKING)

It was in vervets that
scientists first discovered
different monkey alarm calls

for snake, eagle or leopard.

(SQUAWKING)

The vervets aren’t keen
to make friends with
the solitary baboon.

Following well-worn paths, the
young male finds a lagoon,

a backwater away
from the river.

It’s a beautiful oasis
in the dry bush,

unlike anything he’s
ever seen before.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

The vervets feed on lush
grass, growing even now in the
dry season.

From his hiding place,
the young male sees
unknown baboons.

This is the Lagoon Troop,

strong looking,
and well groomed.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

The young male knows what
baboons do to strangers.

He’s safer up a tree.

Each troop has different
knowledge and experience.

Here a young female knows a
delicacy he’s not seen before.

Snails.

She expertly hooks
out the meat.

He watches, intently.

He sees the troop males
enforcing discipline within
the hierarchy.

Every individual in the troop
has a place on the ladder,

and knowing who’s
who is crucial.

Like the river, the lagoon is
a destination for all.

Elephants, in the dry season,
follow trails learnt from
their mothers.

Knowledge accumulated
and passed down over
hundreds of years.

This herd knows the lagoon and
its playground of mud.

(GRUNTING)

The mud is a sunblock
for the eles,

something the sandy
river can’t offer.

The baboons and elephants
leave together, as though
old friends.

They travel a few hundred
yards to an ancient fig tree,

its roots worn bare by
generations of this
unlikely alliance.

The lone male follows and
watches at a safe distance.

Fig trees are a key source of
food for many animals.

They may be the reason why
primates, like baboons,
evolved to live socially.

Fig trees could feed a whole
troop and were defendable.

The relationship between the
elephants and the Lagoon Troop
baboons becomes clearer.

The baboons feed the eles on
figs, just as the River Troop
fed impalas the acacia seeds.

Elephants can’t digest most
seeds, so baboons sift through
the dung here too.

The vervet monkey troop
is also here,

trying to steal figs, and
adding to the excitement.

(CHATTERING)

The baboons spot some newborn
vervets and give chase.

(SQUAWKING)

They have been known
to eat vervets.

Baboons value meat,
a rare treat,

and subordinates even offer
it to their leader to climb
the social ladder.

The juvenile baboons lead the
vervet chase, and it becomes
more of a high-octane game.

(SQUAWKING)

The young baboons and adult
male vervets are similar
size and strength,

and chase each other around.

(SQUEALING)

But it’s a risky game,
and the vervets leave.

The Lagoon Troop strut
in petty victory.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

The young male from the River
Troop has waited long enough.

Putting on his best swagger,
he walks straight towards
the Lagoon Troop.

It’s a brave move. There’s no
telling how he’ll be received.

(DISTANT BELLOWING)

To start with, the
lagoon males back down.

(BARKING SOUNDS)

But then they rally,
and go on the attack.

(SQUEALING)

(GROWLING)

(SQUAWKING)

(CHATTERING)

The Lagoon Troop males fight
together, a united force.

(GROWLING, SQUEAKING)

The young male from the River
Troop doesn’t stand a chance.

At a safe distance
he finds a tree.

He’s alone, again,
and bleeding.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

Over the next month, the lone
young male stays close, and
watches the Lagoon Troop.

He observes their
daily dramas,

all the while waiting.

Before the rains
come dust storms.

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

Clouds build up, until the
weather finally breaks.

The young male is
following the vervets now.

They know where the fruits
are best, and will warn
him of danger.

It took a while, but they
seem to understand that
he’s no threat.

The vervets know of many
seasonal delicacies,

like insects and fungi.

Their favorite delicacy
is winged termites,

which emerge after the
rains by the million.

The baboon is accepted by the
vervets, effectively as one
of their troop.

(SQUEALING)

(CHATTERING)

There’s no shortage of food
and he’s grown.

His dog-like muzzle is longer
and leaner to hold canine
teeth as long as a lion’s.

Still monitoring the Lagoon
Troop, he’s growing in
knowledge as well as strength.

He watches and waits.

The baboon babies are going
from black to olive, and
becoming more independent.

All he needs is a chance
to prove his worth.

Then, one day,

a leopard.

(SQUAWKS)

He calls the alarm,

but that also draws
attention to himself.

One lone baboon would be a
meal for a leopard.

He needs the rest
of the troop.

Yet he stands his ground.

(SQUAWKS)

(BABOONS SQUAWKING)

For the first time, the males
of the Lagoon Troop
respond to his call.

(SQUAWKING)

(BABOONS SQUAWKING)

The leopard has lost the
element of surprise.

It may take more than one
leopard for him to be

integrated fully
into the troop,

but the handsome young
stranger’s been noticed.

The alpha male has noticed
him too and will attack
if he feels threatened.

But the humble and
helpful arrival poses
little challenge.

He’s accepted.

Baboons don’t always achieve
success through battles.

Intelligence and empathy
are also valued.

He will be a good Godfather
to infants not yet his.

He may have battles ahead,

he may rise to lead
the Lagoon Troop,

but it’s enough, for now,
that he’s found a home.

(♪)

(♪)