All language subtitles for Discovered.By.Disaster.S01E10.Timeless.Tombs.and.Modern.Survivors.1080p.DSNP.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-Dooky_track1_[eng]

Paris'
Notre-Dame Cathedral suffers

a catastrophic fire,
and restoration efforts reveal

something shocking
hidden under its floor.

You can see
human bones and hair

and textile remains.

Maybe clothing
or a burial shroud?

The top of this person's skull
has been sawed right off,

right across the forehead
and around the back.

Record-breaking heat
results in a severe drought

in the Canadian West,
exposing a dark mystery.

There's a human skull,

as well as ribs and arm bones
all scattered around the area.

At a depth
of roughly a foot and a half,

an almost completely intact
skeleton is revealed.

An ecological
calamity 13,000 years ago

leads to the extinction
of animal species

across the planet.

The impact of
the disaster was devastating.

North America lost 70%
of its large mammals,

known as megafauna.

Exactly how and why
certain species survived

has been a source
of fascination and debate

amongst palaeontologists
for decades.

All over the world
incredible discoveries

are being revealed
by devastating events.

Floods, earthquakes,

droughts, hurricanes,

volcanic eruptions.

Trails of destruction
expose extraordinary history.

This is Discovered by Disaster.

On April 15, 2019, Paris' famed
Notre-Dame Cathedral,

a stunning example
of Gothic architecture

dating to the 12th century,

became engulfed in flames.

Notre-Dame Cathedral's roof

is clad in lead,
over 450 tons of it.

Now, this fire is so hot
that that lead is burning,

being carried skyward
in billows of yellow smoke,

and it's also raining down
over the firefighters' helmets.

Barely an hour later,
the iconic spire collapses,

crashing through the roof

and the cathedral's famous
vaulted ceiling.

France's president
promptly pledges

that Notre-Dame Cathedral
will be rebuilt

more beautiful than before,

and that the job will be
completed within five years.

But the problem is
that the building's masonry

has suffered severe heat damage,

rendering the remaining
structure unstable.

Restoration can't even start
until it's made safe.

After over two years
of painstaking work

ensuring that the cathedral
was stable enough

to begin the restoration,

the project is finally
set in motion.

Rebuilding the
roof and installing a new spire

will require
100-foot-high scaffold,

weighing over 600 tons,

to be erected in
the crossing of the transept.

Many Christian churches
are laid out

essentially in the shape
of a crucifix.

The crosspiece is called
the transept.

The center,
the crossing of the transept,

is an especially sacred area.

You can't put a scaffold there

unless you're sure the floor
can take the weight.

Archaeologists
are granted permission

to conduct
an exploratory excavation

under a specific set of tiles,

to assess the ground's
integrity.

As workers begin removing sand
and lime from under the floor,

they make
a startling discovery.

It's a head
and a pair of hands,

but it's not a literal
head and hands.

It's a statue of a man's head

and a pair of hands set together
as though in prayer.

What is it doing here?

Hundreds more
carved wood pieces turned up.

Hands, feet, faces,
decorative shapes,

and carvings of plants.

None of these look like

they were just crammed
in here, though.

These objects were
placed here with care.

The exploratory dig
faces a strict time limit.

The pieces are carefully set
aside so work can proceed.

But then everything stops.

Four to six inches below

where the floor tiles had been,

there's a large metal box.

It's about six feet
by a foot and a half,

and not that deep.

And it's completely sealed up.

It seems to have been
warped by the weight

of the earth and stones
pressing down on it.

And given the color and texture,
it looks to be made of lead.

But what's inside it?

Fully uncovering
the container reveals

this brass plate
with a name on it.

"Antoine de la Porte."

And in French it says
that Antoine de la Porte died

in his 83rd year
on December 24, 1710.

This is a sarcophagus.

It's a coffin.

Burials in cathedrals,
under the floor like this,

were actually practiced
in Europe

throughout the medieval
and modern periods.

The most sought-after placements
were near the choir,

under the transept,
just like this one.

But why make a coffin
out of lead?

Nowadays the dangers
of lead water pipes

and lead-based paints
are well known.

But in medieval times,
lead was a special substance.

When you burn lead,
it leaves behind

a yellowish, ashy powder.

Hence, alchemists concluded,

there must be a way
to turn lead into gold,

which gave lead
a certain cachet.

Lead is also associated
with transformation

and resurrection.

So it's perfect
for transporting someone

on what would be
their final journey.

So, wealthy people,
members of the elite,

often had their coffins
made of lead.

But was someone actually
interred in this coffin?

And if so, who?

The attending
archaeologists note

a small hole at one end
of the sarcophagus

and use it to insert
a flexible endoscopic camera,

similar to what doctors use

to see inside a patient's
digestive tract.

You can see human bones
and hair and textile remains.

Maybe clothing
or a burial shroud?

There's tremendous
potential here

to learn about medieval
burial customs--

if permission can be gained

to actually open
this sarcophagus up.

For now, all we've got to go on
is this dated brass nameplate.

Who was Antoine de la Porte?

Historians consult
the church's records

from the late 1600s
and early 1700s.

The records are illuminating.

Antoine de la Porte
was a canon,

which is a member of the clergy
responsible for a cathedral.

Now, many of us,
when we hear clergy,

might think of an ordained clerk

who lives for
and serves the church,

but De la Porte was wealthy.

De la Porte
gave lots of money

to Notre-Dame Cathedral,
which would explain

how he got such a prestigious
resting place.

At one point, he contributed
funds for the renovation

of the cathedral's choir,

which included the removal
of the rood screen.

The rood screen,
or chancel screen,

was a feature of some churches

that separated the clergy
from the congregation.

By the end of the 17th century,
after the Counter-Reformation,

most churches had decided
to remove their rood screens.

But Notre-Dame Cathedral
hadn't done that yet.

Notre-Dame Cathedral
was long overdue

to get with the times and have
its rood screen dismantled,

when De la Porte offered up
the money to have it done.

So those
carved wood pieces

were probably parts
of the rood screen.

And the way they were arranged
around De la Porte's coffin,

it's now clear they were
intended to form a kind of tomb.

In light of
the archaeological discoveries,

a small extension of
the timeframe is granted

for the exploratory excavation.

Now things get
a little wild.

In that same small area under
the crossing of the transept,

but a little further
underground,

still only a few feet deep,
another lead sarcophagus.

So, what's going on?

Were these two sarcophagi
put here together?

This second
sarcophagus

has no identifying nameplate,
and it's of a different style.

It appears to have been
molded closely

around its occupant's body.

By its different color,

it's clearly not the same
alloy of lead.

And this is key, because
it was buried deeper

than the first one,
it may be quite a bit older.

This coffin
also shows damage,

allowing archaeologists
at the site

to insert their endoscopic
camera in for a peek.

Again,
there are bones visible,

but no hair can be seen.

But there is something the other
sarcophagus doesn't have:

plants.

They around the head area
and the abdomen.

So could they be for decoration?

Was this person a plant-lover?

A botanist perhaps?

The time allotted
for the excavation expires

and no further extension
is granted.

The sarcophagi are delivered to
Toulouse University Hospital,

350 miles away,
where they can be opened.

De la Porte's coffin confirms
much of what archaeologists

had surmised, but offers
surprises, as well.

The bones of the big toe
on one of his feet

shows possible signs of gout,

which is
an inflammatory arthritis

also known as
the disease of kings.

All of this aligns
with what we knew,

that he was wealthy
and a member of the clergy.

De la Porte's teeth

are in remarkably great
shape, though.

I mean, this guy was 83 years
old, and it was the 1700s,

and somehow he still
has great teeth.

Hats off to this man,
because most 83-year-olds

in modern times can't do that.

The other, anonymous
sarcophagus raises questions,

and eyebrows,
from the moment it's opened.

The top of this person's skull

has been sawed right off,

right across the forehead
and around the back.

They identify
the plants in his coffin

as aromatic herbs, which were
sometimes used in embalming.

And part of the embalming
process was to remove the brain.

So, sawing the skull open.

Close examination
of the leaves of the herbs

seems to confirm something
for the archaeologists.

The man's chest
also showed signs

of having been opened up
after death,

which would also have been
part of the process.

So, this person was embalmed!

But when?

Embalming
did grow more common

after about
the mid-16th century.

So that could be approximately
when this person died.

This doesn't tell us
how he died, though.

As archaeologists
continue to study the skeleton,

they see that it contrasts
in almost every way

to De la Porte's.

We know from the brass
plate that De la Porte

lived into his 83rd year

and that he had great teeth
right to the end.

This person died around
the age of 30 years old,

and by then they'd already lost
almost all of their teeth.

Examination
of the inside of his skull

reveals the likely cause
of death: chronic meningitis,

an inflammation
of the layers of tissue

that cover the brain
and spinal cord.

It would have been
a painful end to his life.

There is
one more remarkable aspect

to this person's skull:
the shape.

This skull shows
evidence of what's known

as intentional
craniofacial remodeling.

A young child's skull,
while still soft and growing,

would be wrapped with cloth to
intentionally affect its shape;

another custom popular
amongst the aristocracy.

And deformation
of his pelvic bone

suggests he rode horses
from childhood.

So it's possible
he was a cavalier,

or in other words, a knight.

After two years
of research,

scholars now think
that the skeleton could be

Joachim du Bellay, a prominent
French Renaissance poet

who died in 1560.

There are almost certainly more
discoveries waiting to be made

under Notre-Dame
Cathedral's floor.

Whatever's there has waited
all this time.

It can probably wait
a few hundred years more,

for the next opportunity,

hopefully under better
circumstances.

In approximately
850 BCE, a fire tore

through a close-knit
Bronze Age settlement

in what is now
southeastern England,

forcing families to flee
as their wood and grass homes

exploded into flames
around them.

The Bronze Age
is a really important

but very little understood
period in our prehistory.

It's the time between
the Stone Age and the Iron Age.

So, basically, how did we make
that transformation

from Stonehenge
to the Roman Empire?

With every new thing
we learn about the Bronze Age,

the more we realize what
a huge step forward it was.

But it's hard,

because aside from
the bronze tools and weapons

that the age is named for,

so much of what humans made
back then hasn't survived.

A few miles east

of present-day
Peterborough, England,

an archaeologist
acting on a local tip

visits a disused quarry
known as Must Farm

and observes a handful
of charred and rotting

wooden posts
protruding from the ground.

Anybody else who had seen

these ugly old timbers
sticking up probably assumed

that they were remnants
from the quarry days.

Researchers
from Cambridge University's

Archaeological Unit are
summoned for a second opinion.

More posts are uncovered.

It looks like the remains
of a structure.

But what was it
and who built it?

A dendrochronological analysis

of at least one of these posts

determines the oak tree
it came from

was felled between
1290 and 1247 BCE.

That's during
the Middle Bronze Age!

So there is something
to this find.

This whole area was
a very different environment

until it was drained
and converted to farmland

four centuries ago.

Before that, it was
in its natural state, a fen;

an ancient, watery marshland

supporting all kinds
of creatures and humans.

Scattered around
were human bones

and a number of intentionally
broken artifacts.

Personal items
like jewelry and weapons

were smashed and tossed
into the water.

As the excavation
at Must Farm expands,

the support posts of not one
but four round structures

come to light.

The largest
would have covered an area

of around 500 square feet, about
the size of a small apartment.

And there's also one smaller,
rectangular structure.

All these platforms
were originally

perhaps six or seven feet
above the riverbed.

There's also evidence
of what looks like

a raised walkway
connecting them.

Broadening
their investigation,

the archaeologists discover
dozens of artifacts.

Many of the artifacts
found at Must Farm are unbroken

and in remarkable condition.

There are clay pots, remains of
wooden buckets, and bronze axes,

even with portions
of their wooden handles.

The presence of these
intact artifacts tells us

that this was not
a place for the dead;

it was a place for the living.

These weren't funeral platforms;
they were houses.

This place carries
the echoes of daily life.

A pottery bowl still holding
parts of a meal:

wheat grain porridge
mixed with animal fat.

A wooden spatula rests against
the inside of the bowl.

Around the round houses,

a row of ash wood posts,
forming a palisade,

a protective fence or wall,
is discovered.

But the palisade
doesn't run

all the way around the houses.

It seems to form half of
a rough oval, and then stops.

The ends of that oval
shape are right up against

the edge of where
the old clay quarry was.

So basically,
when the quarry was active

during the 1960s and '70s,
roughly half of the settlement,

including the rest
of that palisade,

was unknowingly torn away.

Surveying the scene,
the team notices

what appear to be roof timbers
radiating out from the center.

But strangely, these
roofs are sitting flat down

over the bottoms
of the support posts,

as though they had collapsed
straight down.

Parts of these
roof timbers had clearly been

subjected to intense heat
at some point.

And that's when
the realization comes

that this settlement
burned down,

that these houses were destroyed
in a catastrophic fire.

The roofs were
thatched out of three layers--

straw, turf and clay--
to make them rainproof.

That would have made them
extremely heavy.

So once those oak support posts

had been compromised
by the fire,

the roof would have come down
and pancaked everything,

walls, floors, and all
the contents inside those homes,

straight down into the water.

The moment those heavy
roofs collapsed into the water,

the fire was
instantly extinguished.

So, much of the material
did not burn completely.

The fire that destroyed
this settlement

also helped preserve it.

But what caused it?

Soot deposits are found

on parts of the surviving
structures,

confirming the presence
of hearths or cooking fires.

Because there's soot

only on the largely unburned
roof timbers,

it's clear that those areas
aren't where the fire started.

That doesn't mean the cause
wasn't a cooking fire;

there's just no conclusive
evidence that it was.

As carbon-dating
results come in,

the archaeologists get
some surprising information.

The ash posts
from the palisade

yield a date range
between 1000 and 800 BCE.

Now that's a lot later
than the initial dating

of the houses' support posts.

Those results came back
as between 1290 and 1247 BCE.

So after hundreds of years
of being fine

without any
protective enclosure,

did some threat suddenly
make the inhabitants feel

they had to make one?

What's also
interesting is that there are

scattered ash wood chips

left over from the construction
of the palisade.

These chips are unburned,
of course,

because they had always
been underwater.

But the debris from the fire
lies directly on top of them.

So the fire occurred soon
after the palisade was built,

which begs the question,

was the fire the result
of an enemy attack?

Further excavations
at the Must Farm site

reveal a treasure trove

of well-preserved
tools and weapons.

There are bronze
sickles for cultivating grasses

or crops, bronze axes and curved
gouges for shaping wood.

There's a stack
of bronze-tipped spears

with shafts over 11 feet long
in one of the houses,

and bronze swords with
their edges still sharp.

Now we know
that during the Bronze Age,

the human population grew,
increasing competition,

and therefore violence
increased overall.

So it's entirely possible

that the settlement was burnt
to the ground by outsiders.

But why?

One possible reason
could be simple envy.

You might call the people who
lived at Must Farm well off,

in relative terms.

Among the vessels found at the
site are these fine, tiny cups.

It's beautiful, detailed work,

just to make something
more enjoyable to use.

This wasn't minimal,
subsistence living,

so maybe this community was the
envy of all others in this area.

As the team continues
to investigate the settlement,

more details
about the lifestyle

of its inhabitants emerge.

One of the most
stunning finds

is a range
of finely woven textiles,

again, miraculously preserved
by the combination

of surface carbonization
from the fire

and then being buried
deep in the clay silt.

Clearly there's a high level

of skill and artistry
involved here.

There's also a tiny,
charred ball of flax thread.

with strands
just 1/50 of an inch thick

that has survived
three millennia in the mud.

And more than that,

elements of the whole
textile-making process are here,

including part of a spindle
and clay weights from a loom.

And a beautiful necklace

with beads of glass, amber,
and siltstone was also found.

Isotope testing
determines that the beads

came from as far away
as Denmark,

400 miles across the North Sea,
and Iran.

Via the waters of the fen,

boats carrying goods for trade
would not only have been able

to travel between here
and the North Sea,

but also to the rest
of the known world.

That access to goods from
faraway lands might have been

one of the reasons why this area
was chosen for the settlement.

And also why others
would have envied the people

who lived in those houses.

But we still can't say for
certain that the settlement

was burned down
by jealous neighbors.

When further
detailed dating analysis

of more of the wooden posts
comes back,

a pattern emerges--
one that changes

archaeologists' views
of the site yet again.

It becomes clear
that there are two eras

of support posts
within this site.

Some posts are
from an older causeway

that predates
the settlement structures.

Those are the ones
that were dated

during the initial excavation

and determined to be from
between 1290 and 1247 BCE.

At first it wasn't clear those
were from an older causeway.

They appeared to be part of
these round house structures.

So the causeway was
actually built first.

Three centuries later,

that causeway had
fallen out of use,

and the tops of its posts
would have been gone,

completely rotted away.

And then the second group
of posts went in,

the supports for this
round house settlement,

which was built overtop of
the remains of the old causeway.

The bottom line is,
this intermingling

of older and newer posts
at the site

led to an initial
misunderstanding

of the relative ages
of the structures here.

We now understand that
the Must Farm settlement

and its protective palisade

weren't built
over 300 years apart,

as it originally appeared.

They were actually built
at the same time.

What this means is
there was no sudden need

for extra security, centuries
after the settlement was built.

The need was felt
from the start,

when the settlement was
established, about 850 BCE.

These were clearly
extremely dangerous times.

The new data
also solves another mystery

that's been troubling
researchers.

There's no evidence
of wood-boring beetles

in the oak supports.

And you'd expect to see some.

Now we know why: The bugs never
had the chance to move in.

The settlement was new.

It might only have been here
for nine months or maybe a year

before the fire destroyed it.

As for what
caused that fire,

and where the families
who fled from it ended up,

we still don't know.

The Must Farm site
is the largest assemblage

of domestic material
ever recorded

from a Late Bronze Age site
in Great Britain.

Its destruction by fire
captured a moment in time,

a virtual snapshot of Late
Bronze Age life and culture.

During the summer
of 2015,

record-breaking heat
roasted the Canadian west.

The provinces of Saskatchewan,
Alberta and British Columbia

were severely hit.

Over the four months,

wildfires were burning
at an unprecedented rate.

By the end of summer,

fires had burned up an area
the size of Sicily.

Thousands of people
were evacuated

from their homes
and communities.

Because resources were stretched
to the limit,

the Canadian military
had to be called in

and international aid mobilized.

Water restrictions
were put in place

to reduce consumption.

That, combined with
the raging fires,

heavily impacted
farmers' crop yields.

Even if their fields
didn't burn,

they still couldn't
water them properly.

Late in August, on a
farm close to Viking, Alberta,

a farmer was surveying
his devastated crops

when he came upon a badger
digging around in his field.

The animal had
exposed something

completely unexpected.

There's a human skull
as well as ribs and arm bones

all scattered around the area.

There's also a glass bead
lying with the bones.

Now, this farm has been
in operation since 1937,

and there's never been any sign
of a burial on that property

over those eight decades.

So who's buried here?

Because
of the possibility

that it could be a crime scene,

the police were initially
called in to investigate,

but they quickly concluded
that no crime had taken place.

They passed the case on

to the office of
the chief medical examiner.

The farmer's family
had been working this land

for most of the 20th century.

But before it became farmland,

Indigenous communities
had been calling this area home

for thousands of years.

So there was a good chance
that the remains

were of an Indigenous person.

The colonization
of Canada was carried out

in part through the signing of
treaties between the government

and the Indigenous nations
that populated the country.

In 1876, leaders of the Cree,
Assiniboine and Ojibwe people

signed Treaty 6 with
the Canadian government

and relinquished
121,000 square miles of land,

an area about
the size of Germany.

A year later, Treaty 7
was signed by representatives

of the Blackfoot people,
who occupied an area

of around 50,000 square miles
in southern Alberta.

On paper, these treaties
guaranteed

Indigenous populations
reserves, annual payments,

and the continued right to hunt
and fish on public lands

in exchange for the title
to that very land.

In reality, the
treaties signed in good faith

by Indigenous representatives
across the country

never provided what they
were meant to guarantee.

In effect, they were just
huge land surrenders

on this enormous scale,

with the obligations
that were set out on paper

for the Canadian government
never being met,

even to this day.

Although some of
the bones had been disinterred

by the badger, it was uncertain

where the site of
the actual burial was.

So the team uses
metal detectors

and eventually gets a hit.

At a depth
of roughly a foot and a half,

an almost completely intact
skeleton is revealed.

The pelvis has a wide
and rounded shape,

indicating that
this is a female.

Because of
the badger's activity,

some vertebrae and other bones
are missing,

so her size can't be determined
by measuring the skeleton.

To determine
the height of an individual,

scientists use
the size of the femur

and work off
a four-to-one ratio.

A femur is usually around 25%
the size of an entire human,

and in this case,
her femur is around 16 inches,

so she probably measured
around five-foot-two.

With a height like this, it's
hard to know right off the bat

if she was young or an adult
when she passed away.

But she does have
all her adult teeth,

meaning she's not a child.

But other than teeth, there is
another way of determining age

by looking at
a specific part of our bones.

Human long bones,
like the femur and humerus,

have something called
the epiphyseal plate,

otherwise known
as a growth plate.

This is a piece of cartilage
that exists in the bone

when humans are growing.

When this cartilage
has turned to bone,

it's an indicator that the bone
has reached maturity.

The stage of closure of this
young girl's growth plates

indicates she was around
13 or 14 years of age

when she passed away.

As the analysis
continues,

cavitation is discovered
on parts of her vertebrae.

These are little holes,
or parts of bone that have died.

And there are also signs
in her shoulders

that the bone has eroded.

People lived hard,
active lives back then.

But this woman was young,

so something else
must have been going on.

It could be
the result of brucellosis,

a bacterial infection known
to damage bone in this manner.

It's a chronic infection of the
lungs and also presents symptoms

that include things
like joint and muscle pain,

fevers and sweating.

But whether or not
this young woman died

as a result of brucellosis,
we can't say,

though her quality of life would
have been severely impacted.

Continuing
with the excavation,

4,500 glass beads are recovered
from the grave.

The beads are spherical,

and almost all of them
are white,

except for 57 of them,
which are turquoise.

Many of those beads are found
next to her left wrist.

So it's probably true that
she was wearing a bracelet

on her left arm when
she was laid to rest.

There are also larger
glass beads of varying size,

shape, and color
found lying around her neck.

Some are barrel-shaped
and turquoise,

others are medium-sized
and spherical,

and there are two amber-colored
ones that are hexagonal.

They likely formed
part of a necklace.

The beads were
produced in Europe

and shipped across the Atlantic
for use by fur traders

in their dealings with
Indigenous groups across Canada.

They were highly valued
and traded

among Indigenous populations
all across North America.

Along with
the glass beads,

31 metal buttons were
discovered among the remains,

most of which had a thick,
black, felt-like fabric

still attached to them.

They're almost
all identical--

flat, round, and made of brass.

Most of them were lying
around her midriff,

while another five are found
towards the end of her left arm,

close to the hand.

You can tell by the uniformity
of these buttons

that they were made
by some industrialized process.

So where did they come from?

Similar buttons
have been found

at other trading posts
in Alberta.

Archaeologists have
found similar styles of buttons

at Fort George on
the North Saskatchewan River

and Fort Dunvegan
on the Peace River.

Both of these forts

began operating in the late 18th
and early 19th centuries.

So these buttons are probably
from around that same time.

But considering where they're
located next to her hand,

is it fair to say
they're part of a cuff?

Traders would
often give gifts

that would recognize their
social status or position

as leaders within
their community.

Exchanging gifts
was a very important practice.

It was a sign of
an individual's generosity,

but it was also
a way of establishing

a working relationship
based on trust,

which could be the basis
of future trade.

Along with the remains,

archaeologists also found a
thimble and brass finger rings.

The thimble
in particular can be seen

in old photographs
of Blackfoot and Cree peoples.

It was sometimes used
for adornment.

The girl's remains
were found in an area

that in the 18th
and 19th centuries

was largely occupied
by the Blackfoot,

a confederacy of three

culturally and linguistically
related peoples.

This location
is more or less

between two trading posts,

so it could be that she was on
her way to or from one of them

when she died.

She was laid to rest
with a lot of thoughtfulness

and care, so she must have been
traveling with a larger group.

But whether or not they were
Blackfoot is hard to say.

Both Beaver and Cree groups
occupied areas

to the north and east
of the burial site,

so she could have been from one
of those communities as well.

It has not been
possible to identify

to what specific people
the girl belonged to,

but in a sign of respect,

she is referred to
as "our grandmother"

by both Treaty 6 and 7
representatives.

13,000 years ago, a combination
of human-ignited fires,

climate change
and a massive drought

destabilized the Earth's ecosystems

and led to the extinction
of animal species

across the planet.

This ecological disaster
occurred in the Pleistocene Era,

which spanned from
2.6 million years ago

to roughly 10,000 years ago.

The era was marked by several
glacial periods, or Ice Ages,

not to mention
the arrival of humans.

The impact of
the disaster was devastating.

It disrupted
the Earth's ecology,

and the shifts in climate
and environment

were too fast for many
animals to adapt,

particularly herbivores.

There was extinction
on every continent,

but some areas were hit
harder than others.

North America lost 70%
of its large mammals,

known as megafauna.

Mammoths, mastodons,
western camels,

ground sloths,
giant armadillos.

I mean, those are just
some of the species

that vanished from the Earth.

Not to mention

all the carnivorous animals
that preyed on those things

like sabre-toothed cats
and dire wolves.

So you've got entire food webs
that are just scrambled.

While this event wiped
out some wildlife for good,

many animals, such as coyotes,
bison and mountain lions,

survived the extinction.

Exactly how and why
certain species survived

has been a source
of fascination and debate

amongst palaeontologists
for decades.

Researchers studying
the mass extinction event

notice a geographical trend
that may provide some answers.

North and South American
species became extinct

at a much higher rate than
animals in Europe and Asia.

So, is it possible that
geography played a role?

Was the Eurasian ecosystem
populated with animals

that were somehow heartier,
stronger or faster?

A closer look suggests
there's more to it than that.

Specifically, the impact of
humans arriving on the scene

and hunting for prey.

Now, many North American
mammal species

weren't used to being
hunted and colonized.

They were animals that had
evolved in isolation,

away from humans.

In Europe and Asia,
a larger percentage of mammals

had evolved alongside humans,

and so they were more
accustomed to being hunted.

So the extinction rates were
lower in that time period,

probably because there
were big extinctions,

they were just a lot earlier on.

But human colonization
is only one part of the story.

It still doesn't explain
the survival of one species

over another
in the same location.

For example, why did the coyote
of the Southwestern US

survive the disaster,

while his larger neighbor,
the sabre-toothed cat, did not?

Hoping to solve
the mystery,

the researchers conduct a study
of extinct animal fossils

discovered in the La Brea Tar Pits

in Los Angeles, California.

The La Brea Tar Pits
are these ancient pools

of thick, sticky asphalt
that has oozed to the surface

from large petroleum reservoirs.

When crude oil seeps
to the surface

through cracks or fissures
in the earth,

the lighter portion
of the oil evaporates,

and so what's left behind is
a heavy, tar-like substance.

Asphalt from the area

was used for thousands of years

by local Native Americans
as a powerful glue

and as waterproof caulking
for baskets and canoes.

After the arrival of Westerners,
the asphalt was mined

and used for roofing by
inhabitants of the nearby town

that would later become LA.

What's remarkable
about the Le Brea Tar Pits,

in addition to their
consistency, is their longevity.

Those pools
have just been sitting there

for thousands of years.

And so in the last couple
of centuries,

they have been
a very exciting place

for evolutionary biologists.

The tar pits
were discovered to contain

animal fossils from as far back
as 40,000 years ago

until about 8,000 years ago,

a timeframe that includes
the ecological disaster

and resulting extinction.

So is the answer to how and why
various species survived

hidden in the sticky asphalt
of the Le Brea Tar Pits?

To date, researchers
have discovered evidence

of at least 59 species
of mammals in the tar pits.

Mammoths, American
lions, short-faced bears.

It's basically a massive
prehistoric gravesite!

And this is because,
going back almost 50,000 years,

the tar pits behaved
as a kind death trap,

by trapping an estimated
10,000 animals.

Herbivores
would get stuck in the tar

and attract carnivores
with their struggle or decay.

Carnivores would then attempt
to feed on them

and become stuck themselves,

creating a seemingly
endless cycle of death.

The asphalt is sticky

thanks to its unique
composition,

which means the fossils are
extremely well-preserved.

And we're not talking about
a handful of specimens;

over a million fossils
have been collected.

It's a lot to process,
but the abundance of data

allows scientists to examine

the patterns of extinction
in detail.

The researchers
focus their attention

on one surviving species
in particular: the coyote.

Coyotes were
the third most abundant mammal

discovered at the site.

But unlike
their larger competitors

like dire wolves
or American lions,

common coyotes are still seen
in Los Angeles today,

so they are a direct link
to their ancestors.

The most obvious
difference is size.

Pleistocene coyotes weighed
between 35 to 55 pounds

and overlapped in sheer size
with wolves.

But today the upper limit
of the coyote

is only 25 to 39 pounds.

So it might be
possible that the coyote

got smaller and smaller
over time

as an adaptive response

to the disappearing prey
and food scarcity.

After all, smaller animals need
fewer calories to survive.

But that doesn't
account for the fact

that other much larger
Ice Age animals survived,

and in some cases, thrived.

If you look in Alaska,
enormous wild bison and moose

actually increased in numbers.

So there's more at play here
than size alone.

The researchers
look to the possibility

of competition
among Ice Age animals.

If we assume that
all carnivorous predators

were competing for
the same food source,

maybe coyotes somehow
won the competition

over, say, sabre-toothed cats
or dire wolves.

They discovered
that the cat family predators

mostly lived
in forested ecosystems,

likely using the foliage
as a cover

to ambush and pounce
on the unsuspecting prey.

Whereas the Pleistocene
dog predators,

which includes the coyote,

were much more likely
to hunt for prey

in open grassland areas.

So in this case, competition
was not the deciding factor

for the coyote's survival.

Tooth enamel analysis
leads the researchers

to discover another
possible explanation--

the coyote's ability to change
its diet over time.

You look at coyotes today,

they're almost perfect
Darwinian specimens

with remarkable survival skills.

They can hunt in packs
as well as individually;

they're incredibly resilient;

and they've adapted
to urban environments

despite human efforts
to eradicate them.

So what if the secret to
surviving this natural disaster

13,000 years ago

is the very same thing
that has allowed them

to thrive today--
adaptable food selection?

The results of
the dental analysis reveal

that before
the extinction period,

the coyote's diet consisted
mostly of megafauna animals,

the large herbivores.

But as these massive
animals slowly disappeared,

the coyote looks
like it shifted

to eating smaller mammals as
well as scavenging on carcasses.

The survival skills
and instincts of today's coyote

go back hundreds of thousands
of years.

They're highly opportunistic,
and it's served them well.

They can eat plants, flesh,
scavenge through garbage,

a whole variety of food.

And it's the extinction event
that forced them to adapt

even as their initial
food source had vanished.

The research conducted

at the La Brea Tar Pits
revealed fascinating truths

about one animal's
capacity to adapt

and proved that
every once in a while

a species' will to live
can surpass the odds

and surprise us all.