Original subtitles

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hThe wilds of Zambia are a tough place to live.

Danger lurks everywhere.

In order to survive, all animals need a strategy.

Some are solitary...

Hunting alone with only themselves to look after.

Others have a different way of doing things.

They come together in groups of all sizes.

Helping each other to defend territory...

Protect offspring...

Find food...

And to overcome predators.

This is the story of Africa’s social animals

and why working together

can mean the difference between life and death.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

This small buffalo calf, just four months old,

follows his mother through Zambia’s Luangwa Valley.

He’s part of a huge herd, 1000 strong,

made up of 50 families

all sticking together for protection.

There’s safety in numbers

but keeping such an enormous group together is hard work.

Getting separated could be disastrous,

especially for the young buffalo.

But the herd has a strategy to maintain cohesion.

A few go up front as trusted pathfinders,

leading the others to fresh grass and water.

These aren’t necessarily the most dominant or oldest animals,

but it’s always the same select few that take on this role.

Where these buffalos go,

the others follow.

But the level of organization goes further than that.

A calf is kept safe in the centre,

along with his mother and the other breeding females.

More expendable, bachelor males and the sick or injured

are pushed to the periphery.

Like the pathfinders,

those on the edges are always on the alert.

And they’ve spotted danger.

A lion is stalking the animals at the tail end of the herd.

When one buffalo runs,

the herd mentality kicks in and they all make a move.

This time, an adult male who was bringing up the rear

has been taken down.

But the calf is safe.

The herd’s strategy has worked well.

By saving the young ones,

the future of the group has been safeguarded.

The calf can continue its long journey

to find food and water,

covering over 10 miles a day.

Buffalo are constantly on the move.

But while they need to keep traveling,

their arch nemeses can wait for their food to come to them.

Lions are the most social of all cats.

They live in prides made up of related females, their offspring,

and a coalition of males, often brothers,

who join from elsewhere.

A pride’s main purpose is to hold a territory.

Having a territory means having enough food and water

to feed the whole pride,

even when times are hard.

This prides’ prime piece of real estate

stretches over 20 square miles along the Luangwa River.

(ROARS)

NARRATOR: \hIt’s their safe space.

The brothers make regular patrols

to make sure it stays that way.

(GROWLING)

NARRATOR: \hTheir powerful roars \htravel over five miles

to reinforce their claim.

They wipe their feet in urine packed with hormones,

which advertise their health and vitality,

ensuring they leave a potent-smelling track

wherever they walk.

A warning to others to keep out.

Rival lions respect these invisible boundaries.

Two prides’ territories may overlap,

but the lions rarely come into contact with each other.

So once they’ve made a kill,

there’s little danger of having it snatched away.

The big, strong males do most of the territory defense

and they get to eat first.

Only once they’ve had their fill,

do the females and cubs get to dig in.

Scent marking the bush,

the male leaves one last reminder

that all this belongs to his pride.

A well-defended territory is crucial

if they’re to continue to thrive.

It’s not just lions that band together

to protect their territory from rivals.

Hyenas also cooperate to defend their home base,

living in clans much larger than the average lion pride.

Twenty make up this unit,

but they can be 80 strong and are a formidable force.

Hyenas unite to defend their terrain and to hunt,

but their teamwork stops there.

After a kill, each hyena tries to eat

as much as it can as quickly as possible

to beat the others.

It’s an openly competitive society.

(HYENAS SCREAMING)

NARRATOR: \hIn the world of hyenas, \hit’s the females who rule.

They’re the biggest animals in the clan

and more aggressive than the males,

easily outmuscling them in the fight for a meal.

And one in particular always comes out on top.

The dominant female.

Her level of male sex hormones, especially testosterone,

is one of the highest in the clan,

even higher than most of the males.

She’s the leader and every other hyena knows its place.

They can be the family from hell.

Life in the clan is a race to supremacy,

and it begins at birth.

The more food the alpha female eats,

the more milk she produces to feed her babies.

Her cubs will have a nutritional advantage over all the others,

setting them up for life.

There’s no shared suckling and little communal parenting.

Defending their territory is one of the main reasons to live in a clan,

but after that, it’s every hyena for itself.

For wild dogs, it’s a completely different story.

Teamwork is everything.

Especially, when it comes to caring for the next generation.

This wild dog pack has 12 members,

led by the alpha male and female.

Usually, it’s only this pair that breeds.

They have such large litters, up to 10 pups at a time,

that there’s no way the group could feed two litters at once.

The other dogs must wait to breed

until they’ve left the family,

but in the meantime, they help out with childcare.

This pack has seven energetic pups

that have to be cared for until they’re over a year old,

so the alpha pair needs the help of the whole family to look after them.

While the pack goes hunting,

the pups can’t be left on their own.

So one of their older siblings stays behind as a babysitter

to make sure they don’t get into trouble.

For now, the youngsters get their meals delivered.

But soon, they’ll be able to follow the hunt.

And, unlike all other larger African carnivores,

they’ll have priority at the kill, not the adults.

They’re one big happy family.

Safeguarding this bloodline is key to everyone’s survival.

The bigger the pack, the more likely they are to do well.

Any pack with fewer than five adults struggles to keep its pups alive,

jeopardizing the group’s entire existence.

For any animal,

raising young in such a ruthless environment is demanding.

It’s far easier to do it with extra help.

While it’s not uncommon for mammals to collaborate to bring up their offspring,

it’s far more unusual in birds.

But there’s one species in the avian world

that is known for its complex society,

all built around caring for its chicks.

On an exposed bank of the Luangwa River,

these white-fronted bee-eaters live in a colony of 200 birds.

Within the colony, there are 20 different family lines.

This pair has mated for life and could have up to five chicks in the nest.

It’s hard work feeding all those hatchlings.

On their own, these parents would be lucky if even one manages to survive.

So to improve the odds, they have a strategy.

They get help from their nearest and dearest,

often their offspring from previous years.

These relatives become helpers,

bringing more food for the hungry chicks

and doubling their chance of making it to adulthood.

The bee-eater assistants switch between breeder and helper

many times over a lifetime,

depending on whether they have their own brood to raise or not.

But with all these clans in one place,

things can get a little heated.

And when a rival tries to gain access to the nest,

the helpers launch into action.

A competing female may lay her egg in the nest.

With one more mouth to feed,

it would be less likely the chicks of the nest owner would survive.

No harm done this time,

just a few ruffled feathers.

Division of labour between members of the extended family

helps keep the vulnerable alive

and perpetuate their shared genes into the future.

This unusual strategy of clan living

ultimately benefits each bird in the long run.

But one insect has taken this approach a giant step further.

Matabele ants live in colonies of up to 20 million.

They’re one of the world’s largest ants,

over three quarters of an inch long.

The queen lays hundreds of eggs a day.

But no other female in this colony

even has the chance to reproduce.

They’re all born sterile.

This female workforce focuses on specific tasks within the colony.

Some are soldiers defending the nest from outsiders.

Others have the job of protecting the all-important white larvae.

When they move to a new nest,

the worker ants carefully carry the white packages to the next location.

It’s vital they’re kept safe for the future of the colony.

The workers individual ability to reproduce

has been curtailed for the greater good.

And for Matabele ants, it’s a price worth paying.

With millions of ants to feed,

it doesn’t take long to exhaust the local food supply.

So the whole colony has to pull up stakes

and move to a new nest every month.

There is a downside to living in a group.

Finding sufficient food isn’t easy.

Wild dogs are locked in a vicious circle.

With so many mouths to feed,

they have to catch animals of a certain size.

But since they’re not the strongest or largest animals in the Valley,

they must have a critical mass of hunting dogs to catch a prey that big.

Only by hunting together

can they bring down quarry large enough to feed them all.

The whole pack treks up to 30 miles

along the Luangwa Valley each day in search of food.

And they’ve found what they were looking for.

Antelope.

The alpha male takes the lead to begin with and the others follow.

But all the dogs know the role they each need to play.

Working together, they outmaneuver their prey.

Antelope run in circles or zigzags to try and throw off their pursuers.

But the dogs are onto them.

They cut across the bend

and shorten the gap between them and their prey.

They work like a tag team,

the lead dog changing all the time.

It’s an effective tactic.

Up to 80% of chases ends with a kill.

Teaming up is the only way wild dogs can succeed.

But for the largest of Africa’s carnivores,

hunting solo is a viable option.

A solitary lion can bring down a buffalo up to twice his own weight.

But he too is far more effective when working with the rest of the pride,

almost doubling his success rate.

Night-time is the best time to hunt.

The lions’ excellent night vision gives them an edge over the antelope.

And they have a plan.

Some go round the outside, encircling their target.

While others lie low in the centre,

in anticipation of prey fleeing into their waiting claws.

Lions can only maintain their top speed of 35 mph

for 100 yards.

So they have to get as close as possible before they make their move.

It doesn’t always work.

This time, the antelope slips the trap.

The lions must regroup and try again later.

Even working together, only one in three lion hunts is successful.

But with size in their favor, they have another option.

They can easily overpower other hunters in the bush.

This leopard stands little chance against a hungry pride of lions.

She can only watch

as the lions get their meal at last.

Banding together to increase your chances of getting food

is not just a strategy for predators.

A guinea fowl flock travels around the Luangwa Valley,

scratching at the soil with their strong claws,

searching for seeds, fruits, ticks

and other small invertebrates.

For this little community, life revolves around the dominant male.

He’s their undoubted leader

and decides where they forage and when to drink.

And when he finds a new food source,

he doesn’t keep it to himself.

(CHIRPING)

A food call.

He really wants to attract a female,

showing her he’s a good provider.

But it spurs all the other birds into action too.

The mood may be spoiled

but at least the rest of the flock gets something to eat.

Guinea fowl can live in groups of up to a hundred

and have alarm calls for predators.

With so many lookouts, they can forage with scarce ground cover,

which would otherwise leave them exposed and vulnerable.

The more eyes and ears there are,

the more likely a hunter is detected.

This collective action against attack

is perhaps the best reason for living together.

And many social animals employ this strategy.

For the largest population of wildebeest in southern Africa,

group security is a lifesaver.

They congregate on the Liuwa Plains in western Zambia

every year during the rains, attracted by the abundant grasses.

But carnivores are ready and waiting,

and the young and helpless are always their prime targets.

As a first line of defense,

most wildebeest calves are born within a two- or three-week timespan.

This is an evolutionary strategy to overwhelm predators.

There are so many, that some will undoubtedly survive.

This calf stood up on his feet less than six minutes after birth.

Now, he’s a month old with steadier legs

and it’s time for wildebeest boot camp.

The older males chase him to sharpen his evasion and running skills.

It’s valuable training and could ultimately save his life.

But right now, it’s not enough to keep him safe.

He must avoid getting separated from his mother, who’s his main protector.

They recognize each other by individual smell and their unique call.

Despite these safeguards, as the herd moves on,

the little one has been left behind.

And now, he’s incredibly vulnerable.

If it wasn’t over 100 degrees Fahrenheit,

the lions would make quick work of him.

He runs to catch up to the herd

and finds his mother.

He’s been lucky.

For the wildebeest, it’s hard enough to stay safe in the day,

but at night, the trouble really starts.

They have poor night vision.

But their greatest foe, hyenas,

can see extremely well in the dark.

To level the playing field,

the herd has a well-organized defensive plan.

It forms a tight protective line,

making it difficult for the hyenas

to pick out and surround any one individual.

If a hyena is detected,

loud warning calls alert the rest of the group.

(WILDEBEEST GRUNTING)

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hAnd tonight, it’s been a winning strategy.

Warning the rest of the group that danger is near

is a major benefit of living together.

And there’s one social group

that’s taken this communication to another level.

Vervet monkeys live in troops of around 25.

Only a foot and a half tall and weighing just 11 pounds,

they’re on the menu for a whole host of carnivores.

And since they prefer open ground to more dense forest,

they’re easier to spot and pick off.

In response, they have an impressive vocal repertoire.

(SHRIEKING)

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hThis call means danger on the ground,

better flee to the trees.

A shorter, more abrupt cry, stands for aerial predator on the prowl

beware of danger from above.

They even have a call for snake.

Vervets can convey over 20 different messages with their calls,

signaling not just "watch out"

but more specifically what to watch out for.

Baboons, their larger primate cousins,

have a less sophisticated alarm system.

(SHRIEKING)

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hBut combined with another deterrent,

they’re a formidable force.

They’re larger and up to 10 times heavier than Vervets,

so they can be more aggressive when confronted with trouble.

And a male leopard is most definitely trouble.

(SCREECHING)

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hThe alpha male notices him first and raises the alarm.

He’s chief of the troop, the biggest baboon with the most lethal canines.

Still, a leopard is more than a match for him alone.

But he has back up. (ALL SCREECHING)

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hThe troop bands together like an army,

and they’re a noisy, powerful militia.

Even though the leopard has a full belly,

the baboons are not happy to have him this close.

The flicking tail means the leopard isn’t too happy either.

He starts to move away,

but he’s still too close for their liking.

As they screech, they move towards him, physically shooing him off.

(SCREECHING CONTINUES)

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hThe alpha male is the most aggressive.

The leopard can’t stand this barrage any longer.

And the baboon troop escorts him off the premises.

The alpha baboon is the undoubted leader,

marching his troop into battle

against any animals who threaten them.

But thousands of red-billed quelea are also able to evade predation

even though there’s no frontrunner leading the way.

(ALL CHIRPING)

\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\h\hThese murmurations are a collective movement.

Each bird watches its closest neighbors carefully.

When one bird spots danger

and changes direction,

its immediate neighbors respond almost simultaneously,

the effect rippling through the flock.

Better together, the young crocodile goes hungry.

All 100,000 quelea are safe.

Quelea only have tiny bird brains,

but together, it’s like one big collective mind

working in perfect harmony.

Big brains mean animals can work together even more effectively.

It also means they can retain useful information

to pass on to the rest of their gang,

giving them the extra edge they need to survive.

Head of the class is the elephant.

They have the biggest brains of all land mammals,

weighing in at over 10 pounds.

Elephants live in herds of related females, led by the matriarch,

and are a close-knit group, staying together for years.

The herd’s well-being relies totally on her leadership,

which is where the big brain comes in handy.

The part used for working memory, the temporal lobe,

is particularly well developed.

So she can remember watering holes

and the best places to find food.

Shown by her own mother decades ago,

she’s now passing that knowledge on to her own offspring.

Learning from your elders is a major advantage of living in a group,

knowing how and where to find things to keep you alive.

But understanding how to operate within the group

is just as essential for future survival.

Lionesses have their young within a few weeks of one another,

so they can all be raised together in a creche.

It’s easier to keep an eye on playful cubs if they’re all in one place,

and there’s a better chance of protecting them

should rival males come close.

But living cheek by jowl has some surprising consequences.

Females don’t just suckle their own cubs.

Nieces and nephews can join in too.

(GROWLING)

NARRATOR: \hDrinking side by side,

the cubs forge long-lasting ties

that will help keep the pride strong in the future.

At about three years old,

brothers and male cousins will leave together, forming a coalition

and eventually taking over another pride,

just like their fathers before them.

Sisters and female cousins will stay.

The relationships they build will keep them united,

ready to face down anyone who threatens their own cubs in the years to come.

To survive in the African wilderness,

it pays to be part of a team

to have others who can help out when things get tough.

These animals have come up with different strategies

to make group living work to their advantage.

Working together, they are stronger,

better able to defend their territory,

their young,

and themselves

in the fight to stay alive in Zambia’s wild places.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

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