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Silva Gu's eyes scan over vast expanses of open meadows, searching for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He utters a muted voice as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the open area. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Caught

Across the heavens, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the long summer days in northern regions, consuming bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they journey to southern locales to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the global population – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major migration routes they follow intersect in China.

The patch of grassland where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven 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 "mist nets", so delicate you can hardly spot them.

A net we almost encountered was extending over half the length of the field and supported with wooden sticks. At its center, a small finch was desperately trying to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Hunting the Hunters

This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"In the early days, no-one cared," he states.

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy have shown results. The police discovered that catching poachers also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, noting that implementation remains inconsistent.

Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

He recalls exploring the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not conservation areas to conserve.

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

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

This has not made for an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work demands covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to solve this big problem, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but support has waned because of the slowing economy.

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes aerial photos to find the trails 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 netting setups which can capture scores of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a high price," 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 punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition 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 understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted 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 extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

The area by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

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 in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional 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 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