Original subtitles

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.

(♪)

(♪)