Tracking Illegal Hunters That Illegally Capture China's Rare Singing Birds.

The conservationist's gaze sweeps over vast expanses of tall grassland, looking for any movement in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a hushed tone as we try to find a place of cover in the open area. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, we hear only the sound of breathing.

Suddenly, as the sky turns a shade lighter with the approaching day, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

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

They have utilized the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they head to warmer places to nest and feed.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, accounting for 13% 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 being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer scant chance to rest among towering rows of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was strung across half the length of the field and supported with wooden sticks. At its center, a meadow pipit was struggling frantically to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its ecosystem.

Pursuing the Poachers

Silva, who is in his 30s, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Back in 2015, there was little interest," he says.

So he gathered a team who did care and established a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and brought in the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of persuasion have shown results. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that the response is not uniform.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers wandering in the grasslands on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

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

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

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I chose this direction," 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 surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work requires covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to solve this big problem, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.

So he has developed new ways to track the poachers.

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

"Certain prized species sell for 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 financial benefits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Busted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.

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

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

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