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Silva Gu's gaze sweeps over vast expanses of dense fields, hunting for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters a hushed tone as we try to find a spot to hide in the open area. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing has yet to wake. As we wait, we hear only the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten before dawn, the sound of footsteps emerges. The hunters have arrived.

Caught

In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the warmer months in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year winds down and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they head to southern locales to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Several of the major flyways they follow converge in China.

The area of meadow where we were, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer scant chance to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "mist nets", so delicate you can barely see them.

A net we almost encountered was stretched across half the length of the field and held up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has given up on many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"In the early days, authorities were indifferent," he says.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and formed a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held public meetings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers wandering in the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not protected zones to conserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

"I decided back then to work in conservation and I chose this direction," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to solve this big problem, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.

So he has adopted new ways to track the poachers.

He examines satellite imagery to find the routes created by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species command a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the practice of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."

Apprehended

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.

The path alongside the water extends over several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

Information suggested that protected birds could be bought in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a traditional dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.

But on this occasion there would be no sales because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and taking names. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his