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The conservationist's eyes scan over vast expanses of dense fields, looking for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a hushed tone as they attempt to locate a place of cover in the grasslands. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing has yet to wake. As we wait, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Caught

Overhead, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and chilling gusts bring the early cold of winter, they head to southern locales to find food and shelter.

There are 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the global population – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major flyways they follow cross through China.

This particular field in question, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – any further and the city skies 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 barely see them.

The one we nearly walked into was strung across half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. At its center, a small finch was desperately trying to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Back in 2015, authorities were indifferent," he states.

So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and established a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held community gatherings and brought in the officials of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

He remembers 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 a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were seen as land for construction, not conservation areas to conserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to work in conservation and I followed this course," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," 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 demands covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people 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 commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

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

So he has adopted new ways to track the poachers.

He analyzes aerial photos 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 aerial views can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species command a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This originates from the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about the environment. Once people's attitudes are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Disrupted

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

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

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

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

Information suggested that protected birds could be bought in a small park. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

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