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The conservationist's gaze sweeps over vast expanses of dense fields, looking for suspicious activity in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in a hushed tone as the team seeks a place of cover in the open area. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only our own breath.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have utilized the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to southern locales to breed and eat.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the global population – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major flyways they follow cross through China.

The area of meadow where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among forests of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. At its center, a tiny bird was fighting hard to escape, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has given up on many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Initially, there was little interest," he states.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and established a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that enforcement is still patchy.

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

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

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered land for construction, not protected zones to conserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands receded, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," he says.

It has not been an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded me and beat me up," 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 patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You can't do it part-time."

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

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes satellite imagery to find the paths worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can capture scores 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 own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons 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 generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. 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 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. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're really hard to change."

Busted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have created their own market.

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

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a small park. It was easy to find.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby 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 arrived. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his