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The conservationist's eyes scan across vast expanses of open meadows, searching for suspicious activity in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters less than a whisper as they attempt to locate a place of cover in the fields. 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.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

Overhead, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have benefited from the extended daylight in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they head to southern locales to find food and shelter.

There are over 1500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major flyways they follow cross through China.

This particular field being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the city skies offer scant chance to rest among towering rows of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was extending over a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, does this work for free using his own savings. He has forgone many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"In the early days, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he gathered a team who were concerned and formed a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and invited the heads of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy have shown results. The police realized that catching poachers also led to tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that enforcement is still patchy.

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

He recalls roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not protected zones to conserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I followed this course," he says.

This has not made for an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.

He has also seen the departure of his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands stealth and sleepless nights. 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 devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."

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

So he has adopted new ways to track the poachers.

He examines satellite imagery to find the trails 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 lines of net traps which can capture hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"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 often affluent."

While there are environmental regulations 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 generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."

Busted

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

Another man stands outside a local 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 old Beijing where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

The path by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

We were told that protected birds could be purchased in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing 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 sales because the police had appeared. 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