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

He utters a hushed tone as we try to find a concealed position in the grasslands. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing has yet to wake. As we wait, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. The poachers are here.

Caught

In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in northern regions, consuming insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they head to southern locales to nest and feed.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about 13% of the global population – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major migration routes they follow intersect in China.

The patch of grassland in question, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer scant chance to rest among clusters of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was extending over half the length of the field and supported with wooden sticks. At its center, a tiny bird 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 "bio-indicator" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

Silva, who is in his 30s, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Back in 2015, no-one cared," he says.

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and invited the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that enforcement is still patchy.

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

He remembers exploring the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered empty places to build, not sanctuaries to conserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.

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

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

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."

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

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

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

"Certain prized species sell for a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the fines to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, 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 really hard to change."

Apprehended

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

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

This offers a view of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

Information suggested that protected birds could be bought in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, 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 arrived. 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