Human Planet

Only one creature has carved a life for itself in every habitat on Earth.

That creature is us.

All over the world we still use our ingenuity to survive in the wild places,

far from the city lights, face to face with raw nature.

This is the Human Planet.

Mountains are among the most brutal environments on Earth.

Weather here can shift from tropical to arctic in just hours.

And the higher you climb, the tougher it gets...

...until even oxygen is stripped away.

But millions of people live in the mountains...

...either seeking refuge from conflict

or exploiting resources found nowhere else.

And to survive they have had to adapt

in the most surprising and ingenious ways.

These are their stories.

The Altai mountains in Mongolia are among the most remote on Earth.

And for the people who live in this barren landscape,

hunting is nearly impossible.

Unless you have help.

Sailau Jadik and his son Berik are Kazakhs.

And today they're in search of the ultimate hunting partner.

A golden eagle.

These young birds are almost ready to leave the nest.

If 16-year-old Berik can collect one, he will take his first step

towards becoming a Kazakh hunter like his father.

It's a big first step.

Ever since the Kazakhs fled into these mountains nearly 200 years ago,

they have been stealing baby eagles.

Eagles have eyes many times more powerful than a human's

and can spot prey two kilometres away.

If Berik can teach this eagle to hunt for him,

he will join the few hundred Kazakhs left who can still do this.

Berik calls his new eagle Balapan.

If he gets it right, Balapan will become his hunting partner.

But training her will take five months.

It's five months later, and time for Berik and a fully grown Balapan

to go on their first hunt together.

They're after a Mongolian fox,

an animal so elusive, only an eagle stands a chance of catching it.

But for Balapan to catch the fox, Berik first has to take her to high ground.

Here she'll have the perfect vantage point to spot the slightest movement.

Berik now hopes that Balapan's hunting instinct will take over.

Balapan has failed.

For Berik, this is worrying.

Does she have the killer instinct?

Traditionally, Kazakh hunters pair up with their eagles for seven years

before setting them free,

but Berik now has his doubts.

As day breaks, father and son return to the mountains.

If Balapan can't catch a fox,

Berik may have to let her go and find another eagle to train.

Balapan has caught the fox, just as she was trained to.

She's now locked in a fight to the death.

Sailau kills the fox as quickly as he can.

According to Kazakh tradition, Balapan gets the fox's lungs.

The fox's thick coat will be used for winter clothing.

Berik has proved himself to be a successful Kazakh hunter.

As long as they have lived in the Altai Mountains,

Kazakhs have relied on eagles.

However, not all mountain people get help from wild animals.

On the edge of Africa's Great Rift Valley,

geological upheaval has created Ethiopia's Simien mountains.

Here, giant cliffs form a natural fortress

where for centuries people have sought refuge from conflicts below.

Getabit village is one of a hundred perched in a landscape so vertical

that the residents can only grow their crops on tiny strips of land

along the edges of cliffs.

But 700-foot precipices are the least of their worries.

Today their annual harvest is under way,

and their grain is under attack from a ravenous enemy.

These are gelada monkeys and they love stealing the farmers'grain.

Troops of up to 600 prowl the cliffs surrounding Getabit village,

led by males with fangs larger than a lion's.

They are cunning thieves.

To defend their crops against the monkeys,

the cliff farmers depend on their children, such as 1 2-year-old Dereje.

Because the area is next to a national park, the gelada are protected.

As night approaches, the geladas stop raiding.

But Dereje's crops are ripe for harvest, and he knows that tomorrow

the monkeys will attack even more aggressively than before.

So, with his two sisters and brother, he camps by his fields.

At night, temperatures plummet below freezing.

While the thick-furred geladas have adapted to the cold,

the humans must huddle together for warmth.

At dawn, the geladas attack.

The first strike comes from a few large males, who target Dereje's haystacks.

He drives them off,

but the geladas are cunning - these males were only a decoy.

Out of sight at the other end of Dereje's fields,

the main army launches the real attack.

A big troop like this can strip a field in minutes.

If Dereje doesn't hurry,

the food his family needs to get through the winter will be gone.

Dereje's done it. He's seen off the gelada.

Finally, his crops are harvested.

Dereje lives in the Simiens

because his ancestors sought refuge here centuries ago.

But in some parts of the world, people settle in mountains

because this environment has something they desperately want.

Mountains are born when continental plates collide.

This massive upheaval often exposes a wealth of valuable minerals.

Nowhere more so than here in Indonesia,

home to more active volcanic mountains than any nation on Earth.

Here, people risk their lives

for a mineral vital to several important industries.

Sulphur.

Hartomo and Sulaiman are sulphur miners.

Today they're going where few others dare.

Into the heart of an active volcano.

This is Ijen crater, one of the most poisonous places on Earth.

At its centre, a lake filled with two-and-a-half million tonnes of acid.

And out of the depths of the mountain pour toxic gases

that have claimed the lives of 7 4 miners in the past 40 years.

The hydrogen sulphide that these men must breathe in

is 40 times the safe level.

Over time, it destroys their lungs.

Once they have enough sulphur,

Hartomo and Sulaiman have to carry it

200 metres straight up to the crater rim.

Each man hefts 90 kilos,

nearly one-and-a-half times their own body weight.

This work exacts a heavy price on the miners'bodies.

Sulaiman and Hartomo are paid five dollars per load.

The lives of miners have always been hard.

But it's not just miners who have it tough.

For some mountain dwellers, just finding food can be a challenge.

In the South Pacific lies the world's second largest island, New Guinea.

This is one of the most biologically rich mountain landscapes on Earth.

With plenty of water, and thousands of protected valleys,

these mountains brim with life.

Yet hunting for food, and in particular meat, is surprisingly difficult.

Marcus, Andrew and George are hunters

from the Yangoru Boiken tribe.

They and their families haven't eaten any fresh meat for two weeks.

But today they plan to solve the problem.

They hope to trap giant fruit bats.

But to catch a giant bat requires a giant bat trap.

So these men are doing something radical.

They're changing the shape of the landscape itself.

Along this ridge, the men create a 70-foot wide doorway.

A shortcut through the mountains to the fruit trees beyond

and a perfect place to ambush the bats.

Like spiders, the men spin a gigantic web.

In the dark, this 1 30-foot high net cannot be detected by the bats.

Only two things now remain.

Add the bat alert signal...

...and pray the bats fly into their trap.

Catching bats requires patience.

In the past, Marcus has spent weeks on the mountain

and come home empty-handed.

But if he does manage to catch even a few, the effort will be worthwhile.

It's a good start, but with all the mouths to feed at home,

they're going to need more than one bat.

As the hours roll on, their trap continues to catch bats.

In the course of the night, the men catch a total of 1 5 bats.

They cook two now and save the rest.

Their haul will provide their families with enough protein for two weeks.

Every part of the bat is edible, down to the leather on the wings.

For Andrew, Marcus and George,

knowing every inch of their mountain habitat

enables them to feed their families.

But in colder climes, knowing every inch of your mountain

can mean the difference between life and death.

In the Swiss Alps, ten metres of snow can fall in a year.

And for millions of skiers, this is a brilliant reason to come here.

But heavy snowfalls can also pose a deadly threat.

Avalanches.

Travelling faster than a bullet train,

a major avalanche annihilates everything in its path.

In any given winter,

there can be 30,000 avalanches in the Swiss Alps alone.

Ski patrolman Martin Mathys is an avalanche spotter.

And today he has a big problem.

In his hometown of Grindelwald, there has been a massive snowfall.

The risk of avalanche is now extreme.

Towering 1,000 metres above Grindelwald