They've roamed our planet for six million years.
Powerful giants...
yet gentle...
and caring.
They love.
They grieve.
But there is so much more to elephants.
This is amazing.
They have thoughtful conversations.
It's not just noise.
It has meaning.
They negotiate.
Make deals.
- They navigate the modern world.
As we unlock their secrets, we begin to see
just how much like us elephants really are.
For every elephant that walks the Earth...
...one thing rings true.
Their success...
- ...rests on the strength
of their relationships.
- For African elephants...
...nothing matters more than family.
And here on the savanna,
they live in the biggest groups of all.
This four-month-old calf has been born into a 30-strong family.
Around him, a tight-knit network of aunts,
cousins, and sisters...
all looking out for each other.
His mother
is the highest ranking in this family.
But she faces a major dilemma.
A brutal dry season has taken hold in Zimbabwe.
She knows of a water source.
But to get there, they'll have to take a perilous path.
Dr. Paula Kahumbu is one step ahead of the herd.
She's here to find out how big families navigate
the difficulties of the harsh climate.
But in 30 years of studying savanna elephants,
she's never witnessed anything like this.
To think that the elephants
have to come from up here...
to get to that water,
they've got to get down this cliff.
It's already making me feel very unsteady.
My legs feel weak.
Can't imagine what it's like for elephants.
Oh, here they come.
It's really hot.
They need water,
but they could easily tumble and fall off these cliffs.
The decision to lead her family over a 600-foot cliff edge
rests with the matriarch.
It's a tough choice.
They desperately need water,
but it means a treacherous descent for her baby.
Her mind is made up.
Her sisters seek out the safest path.
Wow.
Look at that.
Unbelievable.
They reach out with their trunks, and they roll it up into a little fist
and touch the ground in front and then place their foot
exactly where the trunk went as a way to test the ground.
Really surprising for me, I've never seen that before.
And they all seem to do it.
One slip, and gravity will take its toll.
Weighing three to four tons,
their bodies aren't built for such a steep descent.
Together,
the females keep the youngest calves hemmed in.
For these little babies,
it's really hard work
coming down this escarpment.
Their mothers can't turn around
the way they would normally, to reassure their babies.
So, their mothers reach out behind,
like a soothing touch,
as a way of staying in contact with each other.
It's amazing how important their tails are to them.
The matriarch's son is really struggling.
It's a particularly steep slope here.
This poor little guy is sliding.
They're over halfway down now.
They must have at least a couple of hundred feet left to go.
All of them, even the baby,
have got some streaks of moisture on the side of their faces.
And that's a secretion that reveals a level of stress.
The whole family is in a state of some tension
as they navigate these narrow, steep paths down this gorge.
It's an incredible achievement for such a young calf.
His mother relied on her family's support,
and the wisdom of savanna elephants who've gone before her.
The way that these elephants use this landscape
is something that has been learned and passed on
from generation to generation.
Once the first elephants figured out
how to navigate this incredibly treacherous terrain,
they taught the others,
and they taught the others, and they've continued to use this pathway.
For generations, they'll continue doing the same things,
that's part of their culture. That's how they transmit knowledge.
It's what makes them so successful as a species.
Relief for the whole family.
The adults suck up the 40 gallons
of water they need a day...
while the calves enjoy a muddy reward for their efforts.
For the next 14 years or so,
this baby's female relatives will continue to share their know-how.
But like all males,
when he reaches adolescence,
he'll leave the family
and have to find his own way on the savanna.
This vast wooded grassland stretches across 27 African countries...
...an area larger than the entire United States.
The habitat can support huge herds...
and the largest mammals to walk the Earth.
The abundance of food and space
allows their extended families to roam together.
But in this spectacular wilderness,
the success of every family depends on their ability to communicate.
For the last 48 years,
Dr. Joyce Poole has been eavesdropping
on elephant families...
...learning their language.
I speak to elephants.
I rumble to them
if they seem upset.
I say hello and things.
Their vocabulary is very large.
Elephants have over 30 vocalizations.
There are rumbles, the low-frequency calls.
There are roars.
There are trumpets.
There are cries.
Wants to suckle.
Yeah.
So, that's when it es... escalates.
That's when the suckle rumble didn't work, and then you have to escalate.
So, saying, "Mom, put your leg forward."
Mama's not being very cooperative.
There's an allomother.
She's like a babysitter.
She doesn't have any milk, but she can comfort the baby.
Females from the age about three, four years old
will try and take care of babies.
That was called a baroo-rumble.
It's a kind of...
Like, “Oh, poor me.”
And the allomother responded
with a reassuring coo-rumble.
Okay.
That's lovely.
See her reaching back there? She's trying to show
the baby where to suckle.
So even though the allomother
is not able to produce milk like mom does,
she does provide comfort.
And that forms a close bond.
Still making that little sound.
That's like, "I want..." It's a suckle-rumble,
but it's a more complaining... ...one.
Obviously, it's not getting any milk.
Okay, now it's going to mom
to get some real milk.
Suckle-rumble. The... She puts her leg forward
to let the... the calf suckle.
Very cute.
After decades decoding the calls of savanna elephants,
Joyce has discovered a language more elaborate than we ever imagined.
Elephants do combine different types of calls.
They can combine and make a rumble-roar-rumble,
or a roar-rumble,
or a rumble-trumpet, a snort-trumpet.
What we don't know is whether by combining,
those two different types,
they're making a-- in a sense, a new word.
Elephant conversations can be incredibly complex.
All of their rumbles contain infrasonic components
that is below the level of human hearing.
And elephants can hear these powerful rumbles from miles away,
and also pick them up
as vibrations through their feet and trunk.
Sometimes, they can back and forth
for up to an hour.
Literally having a kind of conversation.
They're having a discussion about something, it’s very obvious.
It's not just noise.
It has meaning.
They're so like us.
They communicate about some of the same things that we do,
and this communication is part of the glue
that holds the whole family together.
Negotiating, planning, and caring for one another.
Savanna elephants are the most sociable of all elephants.
And the need to be part of a big family...
...is deep rooted in their DNA.
But for males,
puberty means independence.
Roaming up to 15 miles a day,
they search for food, water, and mates...
across a landscape
that's changing fast.
What was once pristine savanna
is now human settlement and farmland.
Elephants that trespass run the risk of conflict with people.
So, bulls stick together for companionship and safety.
It's a daunting time for young males venturing into adulthood.
Jasiri is 12 years old.
- Like many pre-teens, he's bold...
...and prone to taking risks.
He's known this gang of friends since childhood.
Where play fights were once for fun...
...sparring now plays a vital role
in building skills, strength,
and confidence.
Jasiri is proving himself.
But he'll need a mentor
if he's to navigate life on the savanna.
And he has set his sights high.
Standing close to 11 feet at the shoulder,
this is one of the biggest bulls around.
Approaching a hero is always intimidating.
Jasiri won't match him for size
for another 25 years.
But he holds his nerve.
He keeps following.
If Jasiri can join the older bulls,
he'll have the benefit of their wisdom and protection.
Not much is really known about the bulls.
We tend to think of them as loners,
but now we're beginning to understand
that their social lives
are much more complex than that.
Paula Kahumbu
is on home turf catching up with some old friends.
Jasiri is much younger than any of these bulls,
but he wants to be in their gang.
They have the ultimate leader.
This is Tolstoy.
He's magnificent. He's 51 years old.
He's a hero for all the bulls in this area.
His tusks are almost too long to walk.
You can see he has to raise his head to walk through vegetation.
He's like a mammoth.
We're so lucky to have these super tuskers.
There are only about 25 left in the world.
Each tusk weighs well over a hundred pounds.
And that's why so many have been killed by ivory poachers.
Even though Tolstoy is coming up from behind,
he's probably the one deciding where they go, when they go,
- and what they do.
Tolstoy is the king of this group.
He's beautiful.
One of the most amazing things that you see with the super tuskers
is that they are surrounded by this group of other large bulls.
The local people around here call them their "Askaris,"
and that means their bodyguards.
His tusks are so long, that makes him vulnerable
to anybody who wants to attack him.
Tolstoy is calling, and they're all gathering.
They are eating together.
They're actually facing each other. That shows that there's a lot of, uh,
trust and camaraderie amongst them.
They're like a family.
There's Jasiri sneaking in.
I can imagine every kid
would want to
go and hang out with the big, strong, powerful, successful giants
like Tolstoy.
Jasiri was clearly irritating
the big guy with a broken tusk.
In the family groups, the babies get the best of everything.
Right? In the male group,
you have to respect the elders.
Oh, my God. He's gonna bring down the whole tree.
Everyone's getting super excited about this.
That was a success.
They brought down the tree and didn't hurt anybody.
And now it's time to feast.
Jasiri is terrified of being beaten up again,
so he's off to the side,
trying to avoid
coming head-to-head with that big bull again.
You can see a lot of jostling and positioning
going on here.
There's definitely a hierarchy.
When you look at Tolstoy,
it's very clear that he's in charge.
But he's not a fierce, aggressive leader.
He's really gentle. He's very tolerant.
It's hard not to like him.
Just like the females,
bull elephants have close friendships.
But all elephants
have become vulnerable targets for poachers.
And more young elephants are finding themselves alone.
Nzou was just two years old
when her entire family was killed by poachers.
She was orphaned for their ivory.
Rescuers tried to introduce her to other elephants...
but Nzou didn't fit in.
Her need for a family never faded.
So, she took matters into her own hands.
Nzou is now 50 years old
and part of an altogether different clan.
She is matriarch to her very own herd of...
buffaloes.
And it appears her misfit family has even learned
to understand her rumbles.
She may think she's one of them,
but unlike buffaloes,
elephants like to eat on the move.
So, for 16 hours a day,
they must follow as she browses.
Nzou's instinct to lead is strong.
But she's missed out on years of learning from her elders.
She's had to figure out her own management style...
...to keep her extraordinary family disciplined and on track.
From an early age, elephants are hardwired to be sociable.
And it's now known
that friends help relieve the stress of traumatic events.
This very special herd is made up entirely of toddlers.
Each one an orphan,
with its own devastating story of habitat loss,
human conflict, or drought.
Up to 25 young elephants
are taken in at the Reteti Sanctuary each year...
joining one big adoptive family on the long road to recovery,
as they learn the lessons needed to return to the wild.
Among them is Long'uro.
Hyenas found him trapped in a well
- and left him with a life-changing injury.
His buddies are able to use their trunks to select a single leaf...
and tackle whole branches.
But Long'uro struggles for even slim pickings.
But then,
something remarkable.
A simple act of kindness.
Recognition of a friend in need.
For elephants that can live for over 60 years,
these bonds of friendship are essential.
And destined to last a lifetime.
But within one generation,
60 percent of savanna elephants have been lost.
On average, fifty-five are killed illegally every day.
An eerie silence on the savanna.
An icon has fallen.
The mighty Tolstoy is dead.
Infection spread from a spear wound
after he strayed onto farmland.
Rangers have removed his famous ivory
to keep it from poachers.
The death of Tolstoy is a big shock to everyone who knows him.
I feel very sad that this amazing animal, um...
is-- is gone because he was looking for food.
That's all he was doing, looking for food.
Losing such an important animal says a lot about our failure
to deal with the challenges of people living close to elephants.
Tolstoy isn't just any other elephant.
The younger bulls went to him for his wisdom and guidance,
and losing him
might put them in some disarray
because he was so valuable in terms of his role in his community,
his role among elephants,
and his place in our hearts.
Word spreads fast.
One by one,
his friends and family
arrive to pay their respects.
Each gently touching his body.
There's a ritual to their grief.
Their actions speak to the depth of their bonds.
Bonds that endure beyond death.
For savanna elephants, family really is everything.
It's their support,
their friendships,
and their deepest connections.
But most of all, it's the gift of wisdom...
to help the next generation
find its way...
and their best hope of survival
in a changing world.