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Silva Gu's eyes scan over vast expanses of tall grassland, searching for any movement in the early morning gloom.

He speaks in less than a whisper as they attempt to locate a concealed position in the grasslands. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

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

Snared

In the skies above us, billions of 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 warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming insects and fruit. As the year winds down and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they journey to southern locales to breed and eat.

China is home to over 1500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major migration routes they follow cross through China.

The patch of grassland where we were, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the city skies offer little opportunity to rest among towering rows of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was extending over half the length of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was desperately trying to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a meadow pipit, a protected bird 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 personal funds. He has forgone many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"In the early days, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he gathered a team who were concerned and established a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized community gatherings and brought in the officials of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

He recalls exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he found 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 considered empty places to build, not conservation areas to preserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands receded, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I chose this direction," he says.

This has not made for an easy life. 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 beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of 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.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to address this major issue, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined 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 maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show lines of net traps which can catch 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 often affluent."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the penalties to deter the activity do not exceed the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

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

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or understand that numerous 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. "China developed so fast, there was no time to educate people about the environment. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."

Apprehended

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

Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

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

The path alongside the water 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 small park. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had gathered with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.

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