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Silva Gu's vision darts across vast expanses of dense fields, looking for suspicious activity in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in a muted voice as the team seeks a spot to hide in the open area. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky turns a shade lighter with the approaching day, the sound of footsteps emerges. The poachers are here.

Trapped

Across the heavens, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they journey to southern locales to nest and feed.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major paths they follow cross through China.

The patch of grassland being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was extending over half the length of the field and held up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

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

Hunting the Hunters

The conservationist, in his thirties, does this work for free using his own savings. He has forgone many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Initially, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and formed a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and invited the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police found that catching poachers also helped in identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that the response is not uniform.

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.

He recalls roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not conservation areas to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I decided back then to work in conservation and I took this path," he says.

It has not been an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

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

He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says not many 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 give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes aerial photos to find the routes created by the poachers. He charts these 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 capture hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the penalties to deter the activity do not outweigh the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."

Busted

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

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

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

The path by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to dentures.

We were told that wild songbirds could be purchased in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

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