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Silva Gu's eyes scan over vast expanses of dense fields, looking for suspicious activity in the early morning gloom.

He utters a hushed tone as we try to find a place of cover in the grasslands. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter with the approaching day, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Snared

Overhead, billions of birds, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and cold breezes bring the first frosts of winter, they head to warmer places to nest and feed.

China is home to more than 1,500 bird species, which is about 13% of the global population – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow intersect in China.

The area of meadow being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in 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 delicate you can almost miss them.

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across half the length of the field and supported with wooden sticks. At its center, a meadow pipit was struggling frantically to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – that means if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

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

So he enlisted helpers who did care and launched a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held public meetings and brought in the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

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

This fascination with birds started in 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 encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered empty places to build, not sanctuaries to preserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I took this path," he says.

It has not been an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says few people are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," 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 donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the economic situation.

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes satellite imagery 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 netting setups which can catch scores of small birds during darkness.

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

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the fines to deter the activity do not exceed the financial benefits 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 ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about the environment. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

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

A separate individual is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

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

The area 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. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a traditional dance. Close by 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 today there would be no transactions 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