All language subtitles for Tales From Zambia Series 2 4of8 Africas Edens 1080p

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hIn three
extraordinary wildernesses

live three remarkable animals.

A giraffe calf finds his feet
in the hot Luangwa Valley.

A baby baboon
discovers the highs

and lows of forest life on
the high plateau of Kasanka.

And sibling cheetah cubs
rely on their mother

to survive on the desolate
expanse of Liuwa Plain.

\h\h\h\h\h\h(SCREECHING)
Each habitat is different.

(SHRIEKING)

Each offers something
special to the animals
that call it home.

These are the many faces of
Zambia’s African Edens.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hIt’s August,
and Zambia’s dry season

is turning the Luangwa Valley
a parched shade of brown.

Midday temperatures
are around 80 degrees
Fahrenheit and rising.

A female giraffe anxiously
surveys her surroundings

at the edge of
a dried-out lagoon.

She’s carefully
chosen this spot.

The thick low bush
that grows here

is not only perfect
for browsing,

but also for sheltering
a very special arrival.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

He took his first wobbly steps
within an hour of being born.

Now, he’s a week old,
and still a little
unsteady on his pins.

His mother keeps him
hidden and safe
while he finds his feet.

But soon, he’ll be ready
to meet the rest
of the giraffe herd.

This youngster is a new
addition to a population
of some 600 giraffe

living in the Luangwa Valley.

It’s the only place in Zambia
where giraffe live

isolated from all others
of their kind in Africa.

They’re Maasai giraffe,
the largest of
the four species,

with adults reaching
nearly 19 feet.

So, this little guy

could grow up to be
the tallest animal on Earth.

Their closest giraffe
neighbors live over
300 miles away,

further north up
East Africa’s Rift Valley.

The Great Rift is a series
of canyons and escarpments

that runs the length
of East Africa,

and culminates
in the Luangwa Valley.

It’s a geological depression,
60 miles wide,

flanked by distant mountains
to the east,

and a 3,000 foot
plateau to the west.

Running through the heart
of this low, hot valley
is the Luangwa River.

A permanent water source,

even at this,
the driest time of year.

Riverine forests grow
in the mineral-rich soils
of its banks,

providing food and shelter
for all the valley’s
animal residents,

including giraffe.

The forests are full of
the giraffe’s favorite foods
like acacia and bush willow.

But at this time of year,
they search for one tree
in particular...

The sausage tree,

which is just
coming into flower

as the valley’s approaching
its driest.

The flowers contain sweet
nectar and are a seasonal
treat for the giraffe.

They also feed a whole host
of other valley residents...

Large

and small.

The mother giraffe can eat
and keep one eye on her baby
at the same time.

An abundance of sausage trees
is one reason the valley
is a haven for these giants.

Thirty-seven miles
west of Luangwa,
up on the high plateau,

another new baby is born
into a very different
African Eden...

Kasanka National Park.

(BOTH SHRIEKING)

At an altitude of
nearly 4,000 feet,

it’s cooler and wetter
than the Luangwa Valley.

It’s the perfect home for
a primate that’s found
nowhere else in Zambia...

The Kinda baboon.

Kasanka National Park
is in northern Zambia.

Just 18 miles
from the border with the
Democratic Republic of Congo.

It’s 180 square miles
of flat wilderness,

a mosaic of plains,

swamps

and woodland.

Nearly 2,000 Kinda
baboons live here.

Cousins of yellow baboons,
they’ve only recently
been described

as a distinct species.

(SHRIEKING)

The baby boy is just
a few weeks old

and the newest member
of this 80 strong troop.

They spend all day walking
through the park’s woodlands,

foraging for termites,
seeds and roots.

The abundant miombo trees
provide plenty of shade.

These trees usually shed
their leaves for a short time
in the dry season

to reduce water loss.

But here, in Kasanka,
the woodlands
remain greener than most.

Heavy soils and
impermeable rocks
hold the water table high

and keep the trees in leaf...

(GIBBERING)

...providing shelter
and a year-round buffet
for the Kinda baboons.

Kasanka is monkey heaven.

(GIBBERS)

Although the baby boy is still
reliant on his mum’s milk,

he’s already learning
what this Eden has to offer.

The dry season is when
the pod-bearing miombo trees
come into fruit.

He watches
his mother carefully.

It’s important for him
to know which pods to eat
and how to get into them.

They’re hard to rip open,
but the effort is worthwhile.

The seeds inside are a
nutritious protein rich snack
for the baby’s mother.

An essential food source
when little else is on offer.

Watching mother eat
can get boring for
an adventurous baby baboon.

Time to explore his new home.

(GIBBERING)

Life’s a game at this age,
but playtime also helps
the babies master

the art of moving
about in trees.

It strengthens limb muscles
and helps improve the grip
of tiny hands.

(SHRIEKING)

While Kasanka has many
habitats to explore,

the woodlands will be
his lifeline,

providing him with food
throughout the year.

So, mastering his jungle gym
is essential.

He’s confident
and doing well.

But perhaps too confident.

His mother watches from below.

But he’s climbing
almost out of sight.

(SHRIEKING)

She scoops him up.

Luckily none
the worse for wear.

He’s young
and still has a lot to learn.

Five hundred miles
to the west of Kasanka,

lies a desolate moonscape,
Liuwa Plain.

The plain is on the far
western edge of Zambia.

Like Kasanka, it sits on
the central high plateau

at an elevation
of just over 3,000 feet.

This wild, wind-blown
and remote grassland
couldn’t be more different.

(CRICKETS CHIRPING)

The vast flat plain stretches
as far as the eye can see.

Mile upon mile
of sandy permeable soil,

where grass turns to dust
when the dry season sets in.

Here, some of Africa’s
most famous plains wildlife

scratches a living
during the drought,

but reaps the reward
when the wet season

flushes the plain green
with new growth.

Hiding in the thicket, a rare
Zambian resident lives
on the fringes of the plain...

The cheetah.

With only around 20 cheetah
living in this National Park,

and barely 7,000
of these endangered
cats living worldwide,

scientists closely
monitor them,
tracking their every move.

This female
is a success story.

She has four
five-month-old cubs.

As many as 70%
of cheetah cubs die of disease

or are killed by lion
or hyena in the first
two months of life.

This mother’s done well
to keep her cubs
safe and healthy.

But the cheetah family
is about to face
its toughest time.

The cubs are no longer reliant
on their mother’s milk.

Only meat will do.

Collectively, the family needs
to eat around 15 pounds
of meat every day.

But by the end of August,
choice of prey is limited.

It’s the middle
of the dry season, and most
of the wildebeest herds

have abandoned
the parched plains in search
of new feeding grounds.

(LOWING)

Only a few remain,
and most are males.

The cubs are still
too young to hunt

and adult male
wildebeest are too large
for the mother to kill alone.

She needs to find
something smaller.

A little oribi ram
weighs just 30 pounds.

He’d be perfect prey
for the lightweight cheetah.

But at this time of year,
they’re spread thinly
across the sparse plain.

Her best bet
is to find a waterhole,

and hope prey comes to her.

It means leaving
her cubs alone,

dangerous when hyenas
or lions would kill them
given a chance.

But it’s a risk the hungry
mother has to take.

All she can do is hope
that they stay out of sight
while she’s away.

It could be a long wait.

There hasn’t been a drop
of rain for three months.

The grass has died back,

leaving only a swathe of
dried-out vegetation for the
male wildebeest to munch on.

They tolerate this temporary
poor quality diet

for one very
important reason...

Territory.

Dotted across
the 1,351-square mile park,

small pockets of heavier,
clay-based soils support
precious waterholes.

This is valuable
wildebeest real estate.

In a few weeks’ time,
females will return to
these plains ready to breed.

They’ll choose a mate
based on stamina and turf.

This plot will offer a feast
of nutritious plants

(SNORTS)

and a valuable supply
of drinking water.

It’s worth defending...

Which means fighting.

(SNORTS)
\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h(SNORTS)

(BOTH SNORTING)

He gets to keep it for now.

The cheetah mother’s tactic
has paid off.

She’s made a kill.

A female red lechwe.

It’s a good meal.

One-hundred-and-thirty
pounds of meat.

But coming close to
the waterhole has brought her

into the territory of
the hyped-up male wildebeest.

And he’s not happy to see her.

(SNORTS)

Having a cheetah around
won’t help pulling females.

(SNORTS)

He threatens the cheetah
with snorts and digging.

(SNORTS)

She holds her ground.

The meal is too
valuable to leave.

But a direct charge by
a 500 pound angry male
is enough of a threat.

(SNORTS)

She can’t take the risk of
being injured, especially
with so many mouths to feed.

The cheetah family
will go hungry today.

By October, the dry season has
turned the hot Luangwa Valley

into a furnace.

Temperatures now soar
into the hundreds,

and the rains aren’t due
to arrive for another month.

(RUMBLES)

Many of the larger animals
are struggling.

A dried-out lagoon
beside the river

has become a death trap
for an old hippo.

This will be his
last dry season.

The dwindling flow
of the Luangwa River
is a magnet for wildlife.

The river banks
are filled with Africa’s
most iconic creatures.

Including the giraffe mothers.

They’ve left the calves
to stay cool in the woodlands.

The youngster
is now a month old
and spends most of his time

hanging out
with a gang of buddies.

Giraffe females give birth
to one calf at a time,

but several in the herd have
little ones the same age.

These lanky little playmates
are the tallest babies
in the Valley.

They were six feet tall at
birth, and are growing fast.

They’ve already gone up
another nine inches.

Like fingerprints, no two
giraffe patterns are the same.

These blotchy coats help them
stay hidden in the dappled
light of the woodland.

But these markings
have another purpose.

They’re a big help under
the hot dry African sun.

Under each dark patch lies
a network of blood vessels.

As a giraffe’s
temperature rises,
these blood vessels dilate,

dissipating heat quickly.

There can be as much as
9 degrees difference
between dark and light skin.

These clever little thermal
windows help giraffe stay
cool in the heat of the day.

Cool enough for
a game of chase.

Stretching those long-legged
muscles is good exercise.

By the time
they’re fully grown adults,

they’ll be able to run
at 35 miles an hour.

But now,
Mum’s back from her drink

and it’s time for his.

He’ll suckle her rich milk
for another 11 months,

by which time
he’ll be twice his height.

Five miles east,
a much larger giraffe makes
his way towards the river.

He’s a mature bull,
roaming the valley
in search of females

that are ready to mate.

Walking in
the blistering heat,

he’s carefully
chosen his route.

He’s crossing an area
known as the "salt pans."

This experienced bull
is over 20 years old,

and knows this place well.

It hides
a life-giving secret...

A perennial spring.

The Luangwa River Valley is
peppered with over 80 springs,

some of them hot.

The water seeps up to
the surface from rock
fractures deep underground

signs of the valley’s
tectonic origins.

It’s a welcome supply
of water for the bull
so far from the main river.

But, it has more to offer.

It’s full of salts
and minerals leached
from the rocks below.

These extra ingredients
maintain the bull’s health

and keep him
at his physical best.

The spring creates
a year-round mini
wetland Eden,

drawing in animals
from miles around.

(TWITTERING)

Grey crowned-cranes come here
to drink, and also feed.

(SQUAWKING)

Long grasses that fringe
the spring-fed stream
hide insects and amphibians...

Making this
a life-giving wonderland

in the heart
of the hot dry valley,

for those that know
where to find it.

One-hundred miles
west of Luangwa,

Kasanka’s Kinda baboon troop
is also on the move.

Desperate for water, the young
baboon and his mother
are heading to a swamp.

But to get to there,
the troop needs to cross
a patch of open grassland.

A dangerous move.

Martial eagles
patrol the skies.

They’re huge and powerful.

They can weigh over 10 pounds

and have
a wingspan of 8 feet,

and they’re capable of
plucking an adult baboon
from the ground.

The males and juveniles
head into the meadow first,

followed by
the mothers and babies.
\h\h\h\h\h\h(SHRIEKS)

Then an alarm call.

(BABOON SCREECHING)

Two martial eagles are hunting
at the far side of the meadow.

The baboons need
to cross quickly,

and keep an eye on each other
as well as the sky,

difficult in the long grass.

The only way is to run
and jump at the same time.

It might look comical,
but the spy hopping move
could be a lifesaver.

They’ve all made it across.

Now, the baby baboon
is free to explore
this new corner of his Eden.

(SHRIEKING)

In October, the dry season
reaches its zenith,

and even Kasanka dries up.

The swamp is the only
place to find water.

Papyrus palms grow
here year-round.

Shoots of the young plants
hide a hidden treasure,

but the baboons
know the swamp’s secret.

They’re expert diggers,
and soon get to the bit
of the plant they’re after

the tubers and rhizomes.

Full of vitamins and minerals
as well as fibre,

the roots are a vital
addition to the baboons’
dry season diet.

As night falls, the troop
heads towards its roost
in an ebony tree.

En route they’re distracted by
sap seeping from an acacia.

It’s a sugary treat,
and gives the baboons
an extra boost of energy.

Using their long canines,
they make the tear
in the bark bigger,

keeping the wound open
for another day.

Getting from the acacia
to their roost tree
takes a leap of faith.

Now it’s the turn
of the baby’s mother,

with him clinging on
for dear life.

Sheltered in the comforting
branches of the ebony tree,

mother and baby are safe
from prowling predators.

And from up high,

the young monkey
gets a view of a dramatic
night time spectacle

unfolding over the swamp.

Thousands of
straw-colored fruit bats.

Some have
travelled 1,200 miles
to this special Eden.

They’re here in anticipation
of the coming rains
and the flush of forest fruit

that will fill
Kasanka’s woodlands
over the next few months.

But not quite yet.

By late October,

it’s been five months
since a drop of rain

has fallen on the high
Liuwa Plain far to the west.

(INSECTS CHIRPING)

The male wildebeest graze
the last scraps of vegetation.

This is the most difficult
time for the animals
that live here.

Day-time temperatures peak
in the mid-nineties.

And in the middle
of the plain,

no trees on this bleak
and vast landscape
means no shelter.

The only way
resident hyenas can stay cool

is by wallowing in the rapidly
shrinking waterholes
scattered across the plain.

Having a drink is an uneasy
experience for the wildebeest.

They know that hyenas
rarely hunt during the day.

But to make sure,
the wildebeest
approach cautiously,

(SNORTS)

testing the hyena’s reaction.

(SNORTS)

They’re still sleepy,
so it’s safe to drink.

Life in Liuwa
would be impossible
without these waterholes.

The precious pools born
from pockets of clay

are mini oases
in a desert of sand,

and an essential part
of what makes this
Zambian Eden so special.

The cheetah mother still
has four mouths to feed.

The cubs are getting
adventurous and are now
following their mother

as she roams
the plains to hunt.

But they’re inexperienced,
and don’t make her life easy.

With the bulk of
the wildebeest herds

grazing 300 miles
to the north,

she’s still after
the smaller oribi.

At this time of year,
they’re scattered
across the vast plain

making them hard to find.

And their nervous nature keeps
them constantly on guard.

One twitch of
an over-excited tail...

And the hunt is ruined.

But high winds indicate
a shift in weather.

Life is about to get
a little easier.

The rains are due
to return to Liuwa Plain
in the next few weeks.

When the rains arrive,

so too will 45,000 wildebeest.
(LOWING)

The family just needs
to hang on a little longer.

Over in the Luangwa Valley
to the east, all is not well
with the giraffe family.

During the night, lions took
the little male giraffe.

By the nature of their size,

adult giraffe are almost
never killed by predators,

but the young are small
and vulnerable.

It’s a distressing time
for the giraffe mother.

She carried her baby for
15 months before he was born.

It’ll be at least another
two years before she has
another calf to look after.

The baby giraffe gang
is one comrade down.

In the intense heat
of the Valley,

rapidly rising hot air
sets off dust devils.

Building clouds suggest
relief is imminent.

The bull giraffe
has found company.

He’s been closely guarding a
female for the last few days.

He constantly checks her urine
for hormones that tell him
when she’s ready to mate.

Today’s the day.
She’s reached
the peak of her fertility.

Their size and long legs
mean mating can be
a tricky business.

But with this
experienced old bull,
it’s all over in a flash.

In a year and three months,
a new baby will be born
in the valley.

By then, it’ll be the middle
of next year’s wet season.

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

Massive towers of clouds
reach 40,000 feet into
the sky above the valley,

eventually releasing
their load onto
the parched land below.

The rains finally arrive.

The Luangwa River
begins to swell...

Fed by dozens
of tributaries.

The once dry lagoons
that fringe the river
fill with water...

And life.

Zambia’s Edens turn
a lush shade of green.

Up on the plateau,
the rains have also arrived
in Kasanka National Park.

(SHRIEKING)

The once dry,
brown woodlands and meadows
have been transformed.

The baby baboon
is now three-months old.

He no longer clings
to his mother’s belly,

but sits upright,
like a jockey on her back.

(GIBBERS)
\hHe gets a great view
\hof his home from up here,

and can see that the rains
have brought new wonders
to discover.

Trees are laden with fruit.

Termite mounds heave
with nutritious mushrooms.

The forest feast will provide
more than enough food
for the baboon troop...

And their new neighbors.

Just beyond the meadow,

10 million
straw-colored fruit bats
now live in the swamp...

(SCREECHING)

...all squeezed into
half a square mile.

This is one of the largest
known gatherings of fruit bats
in the world.

(ALL SCREECHING)

And, in terms of numbers,
it’s the largest mammal
migration on Earth.

This one special patch of
moist evergreen forest

provides the bats
with a comfortable home
during the heat of the day.

They jostle for roost-space,

using a hooked claw on their
wing-tip to grip and climb.

Gingery bodies
and pointed faces

give the bats
the nickname, "flying foxes."

Each bat is about
eight inches long,

but has a wing span
of two-and-a-half feet.

The wings are formed
from a membrane of skin,

crisscrossed with a network
of hair-thin muscles,

which control
stiffness and shape.

Unlike insectivorous bats,

fruit bats don’t
use echolocation,

but rely on vision instead.

At night, eye shine
reveals large eyes.

Sight and smell guide them
to their fruity feast.

And these woodlands are full
of their favorite food...

Water berries.

Each bat eats five pounds
of fruit every night,

twice its own bodyweight.

By the time
they leave in a month,

over a billion fruits
will have been devoured,

and the trees will
have been stripped bare.

These ravenous winged visitors
are some competition.

But the bats are more
of a bonus than a burden.

They’re responsible
for 60% of all
seed dispersal here,

replanting the forest
and ensuring there’s always
enough to go ’round.

This gigantic influx
of bats is so special,

it’s the reason this
Zambian Eden is designated
as a National Park.

Thanks to the bats,
the baby baboon and his troop
enjoy protection too.

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

The last of these African
Edens to get respite from
the drought is Liuwa Plain.

(CRACKLING)

It’s not until mid-November
that the bone-dry landscape

is softened
by a sheen of green.

The rains trigger a series
of remarkable events.

Winged male
and female termites

emerge from underground
and take to the air.

(FLUTTERING)

Pairs mate on the wing,
then fall to the ground.

They shed their wings and
burrow under the softened soil
to start a new colony.

This brief airborne
bounty is a feast

for thousands of migrating
black-winged pratincoles.

They’re here to escape
the winter in central Europe,

and benefit from the explosion
of insect life that comes with
the summer rains in Zambia.

(CHIRPING)

Below the feeding pratincoles,
more migrants flood
into the plain.

Thousands of wildebeest
finally arrive to feast
on the fresh new grass.

The resident males who endured
the full brunt of the dry
season now reap their reward.

The prime real estate
alongside the waterhole

is packed with thirsty
females ready to mate.

(LOWING)

The arrival of wall-to-wall
prey means the mother
cheetah’s options

have finally opened up.

Her African Eden has provided
exactly what she needs
just at the right moment.

Healthy adult wildebeest
are a struggle to bring down,

but there are smaller
options on the menu now.

The wildebeest calves
are the perfect target
for training cubs.

They’ve made it through
the tough dry season.

Now, the time is ripe
for these youngsters
to come of age

and earn their spots
as hunters.

These are Zambia’s Edens.

Three extraordinary
wildernesses defined by
the Earth on which they sit.

The valley...

The plain...

And the high plateau...

Each shaped by
the same seasons,

yet offering something
different to those
that call them home.

(SNORTS)

Whether a permanent resident

or a seasonal visitor,

there are few places
in the world

that rival Zambia’s
wild domains

for their sheer beauty,
and wealth of wildlife.

They are true African Edens.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

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