Original subtitles

On the roof of the world,

the jagged Himalayas seem to split the sky.

(lively instrumental music)

In their shadow, a misty and mysterious kingdom

hides a little-known world.

It's home to a wild cast of characters

that are rarely seen and largely unstudied.

In the midst of their colorful dramas,

one remarkable and adorable creature stands out,

the extremely rare red panda.

Join us for the extraordinary adventures of Ta-Shi.

Nowhere on earth is the clash of continents more dramatic

than in the Himalayas where India smashes into Asia,

thrusting up the highest mountain range on earth.

10 of the top 14 tallest summits

in the world scrape the sky here.

(mystical instrumental music)

Underneath the clouds, lush mountain forests spread

as far as the eye can see.

They are mostly impenetrable,

and that's proved a salvation

for one of the most elusive animals in the world.

The red panda has rarely been filmed in the wild,

keeping its secrets to itself.

Its companions in this vast emerald fortress

are equally exotic.

There are sacred monkeys,

gloriously colorful birds,

rare hoofed beasts seemingly assembled by a committee,

and a top predator, the leopard.

Deep in this vast mountain kingdom lives Ta-Shi,

a female red panda and a young mother.

Ta-Shi lives in the shadow of the Kangchenjunga,

a sacred icy mountain.

(melancholy string music)

But further down these slopes it's practically balmy.

To the south of Kangchenjunga,

winters are brief,

sometimes lasting only a few days.

With her luxuriant cinnamon fur,

Ta-Shi barely registers the snow.

She's fixated on the nutrient poor bamboo

that she must eat and eat and eat.

She has an admirer.

He chirps out a love song.

(red panda chirping)

It's December, the start of the mating season.

Perhaps distracted by the male,

Ta-Shi slips from the bamboo and decides to move off.

Looks like he's got his heart set on her though,

and is soon hot on her trail.

(birds chirping)

He hustles along after her, at top red panda speed.

At first Ta-Shi ignores his flirtatious antics,

and he give chase to no avail.

Rebuffed for the moment,

he sets about marking the area,

hoping his seductive scent will win her over.

She tolerates his presence

but soon she's all about the bamboo again.

Endearingly he waves as if flexing his muscles to impress.

Apparently his performance carries the day

and she allows him to approach

and share her bamboo perch and feast.

(red panda squeaking)

At almost 28,000 feet,

chilly Kangchenjunga is the third

highest mountain in the world.

At lower elevations, though,

winter is banished as quickly

as it arrives in the dense forests,

home to thousands of plant species, rhododendron woods

and undergrowth packed with all-important bamboo.

Everything about Ta-Shi is built for bamboo.

In Nepali, her species name,

ponya, means bamboo eater.

And from ponya comes the name panda.

The red panda, also known as the lesser panda,

was discovered in 1825,

50 years before her more famous namesake,

the black and white giant panda.

One thing the red panda has in common with the giant panda,

however, is its obsession with bamboo.

Since bamboo is so tough and low in nutrients,

Ta-Shi has to eat continuously,

consuming a third of her body weight every day.

When she is not eating, she's a champion napper.

Red pandas are the sloths of the Himalayas.

(soaring string music)

Ta-Shi's home lies on the border between Nepal

and the Indian state of Sikkim

where people have eked out a living for thousands of years.

This is Buddhist country

and prayer flags flutter everywhere.

The Buddhists believe in reincarnation

and this imbues them with a deep respect

for all forms of life, including the panda.

(bell rattling)

But while men, their cattle, and the Himalayan wildlife

have long coexisted peacefully,

now human population growth

presses deeper into the panda's forest,

claiming more and more resources.

And it's not known if this will put extra stress on Ta-Shi,

especially as an expectant mother.

February ushers in the glories of spring.

Cobra lilies emerge and grab at sunlight.

(playful flute music)

The rhododendron we recognize from our gardens

actually originated in the Himalayas,

but here it forms entire forests.

This rufous sibia sips sweet nectar

and inadvertently carries pollen from bloom to bloom.

The rufous vented yuhina hunts for insects

and refreshes itself with sweet nectar from the flowers.

Pink blossoms rain down to the forest floor,

the signature of hungry squirrels above.

(birds calling)

Everywhere the birds and the bees hurry

to make hay while the sun shines.

(bees buzzing)

(upbeat instrumental music)

The green tailed sunbird's long curved beak

allows it to reach deep into the mahonia blossoms.

These tiny birds bear a striking resemblance

to American hummingbirds,

but they don't hover.

Instead, they grasp the yellow mahonia clusters

with their feet to suck up the nectar.

(bee buzzing)

They are barely double the size of the bumblebee.

A female sunbird busily harvests fuzz from magnolia buds.

A spectacularly hued male tries to catch her eye.

The fluff will make for a cozy family nest,

if she accepts him.

(lively instrumental music)

(birds chirping)

In April, Ta-Shi becomes restless.

She's as agile as a feline moving from branch to branch,

earning the nickname cat-bear.

But she's neither cat nor bear nor raccoon.

In fact, red pandas even form their own family

within the animal kingdom.

It's high time Ta-Shi found a suitable nursery

and she scours the forest for the perfect real estate

for a single mother and baby.

It needs to be snug, well-hidden,

easy to defend.

Her ideal hideaway,

a hollow tree trunk, eludes her.

Her search could take weeks.

(melancholy instrumental music)

Under cover of the cloud forests,

another truly remarkable mountain dweller

has already given birth,

a rare creature and the national animal of Bhutan.

(water rushing)

It's the bizarre-looking takin,

with a moose-like head,

wildebeest-like horns,

and the massive shoulders of a bison.

The bulky takin may look out of place

among the rocks and cliffs,

but is actually nimble and quite at home here.

The calves are only about three weeks old,

but they are already sure-footed on the rocky terrain

as they follow their mothers up the steepest slopes.

(birds chirping)

Large spurs stick out above their hooves.

On steep ground, these dewclaws dig in

and provide stability so they can negotiate

the most precarious slopes with assurance.

Takins are noted for eating almost any vegetation

they can get their mouths on.

They normally only give birth to one calf,

but females are often seen with several youngsters.

They're happy to act as surrogate aunties

to each other's babies.

(takin grunting)

After two months,

the little ones are still getting most of their nutrition

from their mother's rich milk.

They won't be weaned for nine months.

(peaceful instrumental music)

The takins will remain

on the thickly forested slopes until April,

where the calves engage in their first mock battles

for dominance in the herd's hierarchy.

Predators have little chance against these expert climbers.

Armed with tempers as fierce

as their backwards-curving horns,

the adults have few enemies.

A Himalayan black bear nonetheless

keeps a lookout for a stray calf,

but the youngsters are well guarded

by a fortress of adults.

(dramatic instrumental music)

The female bear backs off,

taking her cub in search of a less intimidating meal.

(soaring instrumental music)

In the middle of the rhododendron forest,

Ta-Shi has finally discovered a suitable lair.

It is high time,

as her baby's due any day now.

Ta-Shi is as obsessive as any mum

when it comes to the nursery.

She checks for signs of unwanted visitors.

Another panda may have tried to stake a claim here.

Worse, a predator might've scoped out the little nursery.

Ta-Shi checks things out with her nose

and with a special sensory organ under her tongue.

For now she's satisfied all is well.

But there's no rest for the pregnant panda.

Ta-Shi ventures out again and again

to look for insulating material for the nest.

Deadwood, leaves, branches, and moss will do.

Bamboo is not just for eating.

The stems make for sturdy building material.

But they require a little effort.

With teeth and skillful paws,

she patiently shapes the bamboo to the perfect size.

(birds chirping)

Each time she returns to the nursery,

Ta-Shi continues her home improvements.

It's a bit of a mess,

but Ta-Shi clears up,

spreading the new building material around

and creating a little sleeping hollow with her snout.

Everything needs to be cozy for the birth of her cub.

Outside, a colorful neighbor appears,

a male satyr tragopan, a pheasant.

The dull-feathered female

seems more intent on food than fashion.

But the show hasn't begun yet

and it's an eye-catching display sure to impress.

(bird clucking)

He starts with a love chant,

then plumps up his feathers to magnify his size.

(waddle rustling)

Next, he extravagantly shakes out his skin waddle,

normally hidden but luminously blue during mating season.

And if that's not enough to infatuate the mousy female,

he breaks out the big guns,

his elaborate dance.

(bird clicking)

(lively sitar music)

Nearby, others flaunt their colors.

Two Himalayan monals fight raucously over a territory.

(birds calling)

The skirmish not only demonstrates strength and fitness,

it shows off their brilliant hues to best effect.

The changing light makes the plumage dance

like the colors of the rainbows that glow

at the countless mountain waterfalls.

(peaceful flute music)

(water rushing)

At one waterfall,

a plumbeous water redstart is courting.

From his rocky stage,

he flits and twirls.

(bird chirping)

His calls are pitched at a perfect frequency

to cut through the noisy waterfall.

After mating, the pair will build their nests

in rocky crevices by the stream

or behind a small waterfall.

(peaceful flute music)

Ta-Shi is only days away from giving birth

and her signature grace in the trees becomes more lumbering.

She's been pregnant for about five months

and eating for two.

The extra baby weight means

she has to stick to thicker branches

and move with extra care.

Gone are the days when she navigated

the treetops like a cat.

Nearby, a lot of monkey business is going on.

(energetic instrumental music)

These gray langurs have reason to celebrate.

The magnolia trees are blossoming,

a once-a-year treat.

The petals make a sweet spring salad.

(birds chirping)

They're in langur heaven.

Normally the langurs eat mostly leaves,

so these fresh flowers provide extra nutrients and energy.

The magnolias are in bloom for just two weeks

and the monkeys make the most of them,

rubbing full and contented bellies.

(peaceful instrumental music)

In the shadow of the Himalayas,

June has arrived.

And something wonderful has arrived with it,

Ta-Shi's baby.

Normally red pandas give birth to twins

and occasionally up to three cubs,

but Ta-Shi has had a single baby,

a little girl.

In the first few days,

Ta-Shi has hardly left the hollow.

But now she goes out on regular forays

for new twigs to pad things out.

Her baby is two weeks old,

but its eyes are still shut.

Ta-Shi says hello by sniffing at the youngster

and licking its fur.

This not only cleans her coat

but helps mother and child to bond.

Only in a special filming burrow

can we capture intimate details like this.

Carefully she lifts her protesting baby

to one side to clean up her waist.

(red panda squealing)

The young mother also regularly licks the den clean

so would-be predators can't smell it.

When Ta-Shi is hungry,

she forages as close to the den as possible.

When it's not suckling,

the little cub is sleeping,

and apparently dreaming of warm milk.

Ta-Shi has eaten most of the nearby bamboo

and must venture further into the forest.

(stately instrumental music)

And in her absence,

a little stranger approaches.

Fortunately, a harmless one,

a toad on a mission.

The dreaming cub doesn't even register its presence.

The toad isn't looking for a home

but a changing room.

It's bursting out of its old skin,

shredding it with its feet.

This is a vulnerable time for the toad

and the den provides safe haven.

Plus the humidity in the nursery

makes it easier to slough off his old outfit.

Freshly attired, the toad heads for the exit.

The young mother checks in,

realizes the toad poses no threat,

and continues to forage.

Ta-Shi now senses a change in the weather, a big one.

By late June, the monsoon season has arrived.

Massive clouds pregnant with moisture from the Indian Ocean

accumulate over the Himalayas.

(thunder crackling)

(mournful string music)

For about three months, it pours.

In some areas, hundreds of inches of rain

can fall during the season.

Unimaginable amounts of water cascade down

from the roof of the world.

The greatest rivers in Asia spring from the Himalayas.

More than two billion people depend on this deluge,

a quarter of the world's population.

Little mills along the streams

continuously turn Buddhist prayer wheels.

As the drum revolves,

Buddhist mantras for the benefit of all creation

spin upward to the gods.

(bell ringing)

But less holy forces threaten Ta-Shi's forest waterways.

Plans for more than 400 dams are in the works

all around the Himalaya,

dams that would forever alter this landscape

in order to power the growing economies

of India, China, and Pakistan.

(rooster crowing)

(melancholy string music)

The Buddhist belief that all nature

and all creatures are sacred

has run up against the inexorable march

of population and progress.

It's one of the largest water grabs in the world,

and even the mystical powers of great Kangchenjunga

may not keep the Himalayas from becoming

the most dammed region on the planet.

Next to rain-soaked prayer flags

a group of gray langurs patiently endures the monsoon.

Close relatives of these langurs

live of temple monkeys in much warmer regions of India.

Here the mountain langurs need a thick coat

to keep the cold at bay,

and that coat needs careful maintenance

with a little help from your friends.

They're generally more peaceful than their cousins,

which helps them to conserve their energy

in the harsher climate.

Langur females form close-knit groups,

cheerfully babysitting each other's young.

That way mothers get much-needed breaks to forage in peace.

(energetic instrumental music)

The monsoon certainly hasn't dampened

the spirits of the youngest langurs,

for whom the forest is a perfect gymnasium.

They tussle and tumble.

They lunge and leap.

They even do cartwheels.

At the age of about two years, they'll be weaned,

leaving their mothers free to breed again.

Deprived of mother's milk,

the older juveniles have to make do

with a bland, leafy diet.

The monsoon is far from over.

(dramatic instrumental music)

But thanks to her fur,

with its long guard hair and thick undercoat,

Ta-Shi shakes off the cold and damp with ease.

For her little girl,

snug in the nursery,

the monsoon may as well not exist.

(red panda squeaking)

Panda babies are slow to develop,

profoundly uncoordinated,

and aside from mum's dedicated care,

completely defenseless.

(red panda snuffling)

Nearby, a red panda's worst nightmare lurks,

one that poses a real threat to the baby.

It's a yellow-throated marten.

Ta-Shi nervously heads for the entrance to investigate.

(dramatic instrumental music)

She wouldn't stand a chance

against the completely fearless predator.

But it's not the panda the marten has in its sights.

It's a pika,

a little mammal that can rival even a red panda in cuteness.

The pika bolts,

followed by the marten,

which completely missed the scent of the panda nursery.

(red panda snuffling)

Ta-Shi's obsessive homemaking has saved the day.

The cub is now four weeks old.

Her eyes and ears have opened.

And she's crawling around,

but she's still utterly dependent on mother.

Ta-Shi redoubles her efforts

to keep her child and nursery immaculate

after the close call.

(melancholy string music)

Ta-Shi's human neighbors farm and raise livestock

at the foot of the sacred mountain.

Monsoon season is also leech season.

The bloodsuckers are only active in summer when it's humid

and become the bane of domestic animals

that roam the pastures of the bamboo forest.

The leeches clamber onto leaves to await their victims.

They're surprising agile,

using their suckers to move.

When livestock arrives in the forest,

the leeches make the leap from leaf to victim.

They inject an anticoagulant

before they start feasting on the blood.

Most of the time the animals don't even know they're there.

But gold-billed magpies know

and become the livestocks' unlikely allies,

plucking the parasites from their fur.

Normally the birds feed on large insects,

but plump leeches are a nutrient-rich treat for them.

(chickens clucking)

Someone else is out for blood too.

The yellow-throated marten

has caught a chicken in the village and lugs it home.

The female marten announces it's dinnertime

to her youngster in their tree hollow.

The juvenile was born months ago

and it's time for meat to become a staple of his diet.

(birds calling)

The parents are ready to tuck into the chicken

thanks to father's hunting prowess.

It's a bountiful meal for a family of three.

But where's that juvenile?

Of course, being delinquent.

He's decided this is playtime,

not time for a formal meal.

His mother seems to be torn

between her child and the chicken.

(lively instrumental music)

Both parents watch the gymnastics display.

Then mother finally joins in.

Play strengthens their bond,

vital for future hunting trips.

When hunting in groups,

these martens have been known to take down animals

as large as barking deer.

(peaceful instrumental music)

Underfoot, another extremely secretive and agile animal

calls the bamboo forest home.

The tiniest land mammal on earth.

Etruscan shrews are much smaller than your little finger,

barely 1 1/2 inches,

and weigh just a sliver of an ounce.

They're widely distributed throughout Eurasia,

but because they live so secretly,

no one knows much about them.

They're so frenetic,

they burn calories like crazy

and need to eat twice their weight in food every day.

Their hearts beat up to 1,500 times per minute.

The near-sighted little shrews

navigate mostly by touch,

helped by long whiskers

and special sensory hairs on their legs and tail.

Don't let their size fool you, though.

They're fierce little hunters.

(suspenseful instrumental music)

(eerie chime music)

In her den, her teeny young are waiting.

When they were born,

they weighed about as much as a pea.

The mother suckles the minuscule creatures for 20 days.

To make room in her tiny body for more food,

she needs to expel any undigested matter.

The gyrating hips probably help to get it all out.

(lively instrumental music)

The frenzied mother is constantly relocating her tiny babies

by caravanning within the den,

perhaps for protection from predators,

perhaps to teach them the ins and outs of their nest.

The youngsters bite into the base of the tail

of the sibling in front of them

and the mother simply tows her family around the nursery.

There's always one in the bunch

who loses the shrew train.

Not to worry.

The dedicated little mum quickly comes to the rescue.

(birds chirping)

Ta-Shi has grown a bit bored at bamboo

and is looking for a change.

And this satyr tragopan just might provide it.

All other pheasants breed on the ground.

Only tragopan pheasants nest high in the trees,

sometimes 25 feet up.

Few humans have ever laid eyes on these hidden nests.

For four weeks, the female will brood up here.

Even so, she has to leave the eggs from time to time

to eat some leaves or have a drink.

Ta-Shi seizes the moment.

As bamboo is extremely low in nutrients,

she likes to supplement her diet with proteins,

small vertebrates, worms, and eggs.

She makes her way silently toward the nest.

She's graceful even climbing down headfirst.

Like all red pandas,

she's well-equipped for life in the trees.

Strong, sharp claws allow her a tight grip on the bark.

The hairy soles of her feet

give her more traction when it's wet.

But it's all for nought.

The hen appears in the nick of time and her brood is safe.

So no protein on the menu for Ta-Shi today.

Not far off, another tragopan pheasant and her chicks

inspect the forest floor.

(gentle instrumental music)

It's a tutorial with mum pointing out what's good to eat.

They're quick learners and deft peckers

even at this young age.

If it gets chilly,

mother will gather her little ones around her

and warm them with her body heat.

Finally September arrives

and the heavy clouds begin to disperse.

The monsoon has ended,

along with the torrential rains.

A beautiful autumn moves in under the roof of the world.

(mystical string music)

(water splashing)

Ta-Shi is still diligently gathering twigs,

but this time she's shopping for educational toys,

not building material.

She takes these home to her growing daughter to play with.

But the little girl is snoozing as usual,

so mother leaves her presents and heads out for more.

Ta-Shi's girl finally rouses herself groggily.

Now three months old,

she explores her nursery

and plays with the twigs mother has left.

It's dexterity training for using her claws

which she'll soon need for climbing and manipulating bamboo.

She's happily oblivious to the outside world

and its creatures, like leopards.

Ta-Shi spots the predator,

(suspenseful instrumental music)

and heads for the treetops.

The big cat can't follow her onto the thin branches.

More importantly, he hasn't discovered Ta-Shi's den.

Only when the coast is clear does Ta-Shi head for home.

She's made a decision.

The old nursery location is no longer safe.

It's time to move house.

(red panda squeaking)

With the gentlest of bites,

she picks the cub up by the scruff of its neck.

After some squeaks of protest,

the baby panda soon goes limp.

(baby panda squeaking)

Paralyzed but comfortable,

the little one becomes a perfectly portable package.

With a wisdom born of instinct,

Ta-Shi has a backup plan.

She long ago picked out and outfitted a second den

for just such contingencies.

The little cub soon settles down

after the stress of the move.

A little cuddle and her tiny world is back in order.

Tragically, there are worse threats

than leopards out in the larger world.

One is poaching.

Their soft, warm fur is in demand for hats

or as collar trimming for coats,

a lucrative business.

Most of the victims end up in China,

where a booming economy means people can afford

such ill-gotten luxury.

In the past 50 years,

red panda numbers have fallen by half.

It's unlikely that there are even

10,000 red pandas still alive today.

Conservationists and scientists struggle to fight back.

They install camera traps in places

where the pandas regularly visit,

panda toilets.

The fastidious creatures like to do

their business in the same place,

away from their lairs.

Camera traps help researchers

survey the number of animals in the area,

and the photos also help them catch poachers red-handed.

But even poaching pales beside the greatest threat of all,

deforestation and the fragmentation

of mountain forest habitats.

The growing human population fuels

a voracious demand for firewood and construction material.

There is hope.

In some places,

vast tracts of mountain forest areas remain pristine.

(birds calling)

Autumn brings a bit of variety

to the menus of the mountain forest inhabitants.

(peaceful instrumental music)

It's not only the large-billed crows

who love the Himalayan whitebeam.

Ta-Shi also craves them,

a refreshing change from tough bamboo.

If she can,

Ta-Shi will only eat fruit for days on end,

wild kiwis, yew berries, as well the rowan berries.

They're much more nutritious than the fibrous bamboo.

The cub is now over three months old

and still fond of napping above all else.

But mother has other ideas.

It's time for the cub's first adventure outside the lair.

With a little coaxing from mum,

the sluggish cub finally gets to her feet

and heads for the door.

(peaceful instrumental music)

It's a brave new world

full of things to experience for the first time.

She sticks close to Ta-Shi,

who introduces her to their universe,

a universe of trees.

(birds chirping)

It's a little disorienting up here.

Very tentatively, she puts her climbing skills to the test

and slowly but surely navigates the branches,

full of new tastes and smells.

Ta-Shi shows her where the best foraging is.

And soon the cub is nibbling away

at her first bamboo dinner.

(monkeys calling)

Noisy neighbors interrupt their bamboo reverie.

Assam macaques.

Adult males can be up to two or three times

the weight of a fully grown red panda.

These macaques are usually herbivores,

but they've been known to hunt and eat meat.

Right now, fortunately,

they show no interest in the newcomer in the treetops.

They'd rather squabble and screech.

(monkeys screeching)

(suspenseful instrumental music)

The cub quakes with fear.

(bird chirping)

Ta-Shi decides that's enough adventure for one day.

Together they pick their way back to the den.

(peaceful instrumental music)

There's no place like home.

In the familiar confines of the lair,

snuggling with her mother,

the cub quickly calms down

after the excitement of her first outing.

On the other hand,

she's had a first taste of the dangers the forest may hold.

(red panda snuffling)

Ta-Shi's daughter is safe for the moment.

(melancholy string music)

The little panda will stay with her mother

for another two or three months.

Then she'll have to fend for herself

and one day become a single mother like Ta-Shi,

another gorgeous red ghost in the shadow of the Himalayas.

(soaring instrumental music)