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The conservationist's vision darts across miles of dense fields, hunting for suspicious activity in the inky blackness.

He utters a hushed tone as the team seeks a place of cover in the grasslands. Behind us, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, the sound of footsteps emerges. The poachers are here.

Snared

Across the heavens, billions of birds, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are migrating 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 cold breezes bring the early cold of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to breed and eat.

There are more than 1,500 bird species, representing roughly 13% of the global population – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major flyways they follow cross through China.

The area of meadow being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among clusters of concrete.

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

The trap we stumbled upon was stretched across a large section of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a tiny bird was desperately trying to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.

Hunting the Hunters

Silva, who is in his 30s, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has given up on many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

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

So he enlisted helpers who did care and launched a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and invited the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police realized that catching poachers also led to tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that the response is not uniform.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were seen as land for construction, not protected zones to conserve.

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

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

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

"He gathered several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

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.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. 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 developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines aerial photos to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes 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 at night.

"Certain prized species command 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 wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the penalties to deter the activity do not exceed the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for 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 breaking the law, or understand that numerous birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about ecology. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."

Apprehended

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures 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 nearly 1900 yuan.

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

The path by the river stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to dentures.

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be bought in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

But today there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. 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