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

He speaks in a hushed tone as they attempt to locate a place of cover in the grasslands. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Snared

Overhead, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in northern regions, consuming insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the initial freeze of winter, they journey to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

There are 1500-plus bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the global population – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow cross through China.

The patch of grassland where we were, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so fine you can barely see them.

A net we almost encountered was extending over half the length of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. At its center, a meadow pipit was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Back in 2015, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he gathered a team who were concerned and established a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and invited the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police discovered that catching poachers also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that enforcement is still patchy.

Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

He recalls exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were seen as land for construction, not sanctuaries to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I decided back then to work in conservation and I followed this course," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he went to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but support has waned because of the economic situation.

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines aerial photos to find the routes worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can catch scores of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species command a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to dentures.

We were told that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing a traditional dance. Close by 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 today there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and taking names. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his