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Silva Gu's eyes scan over miles of open meadows, looking for any movement in the inky blackness.

He utters a muted voice as the team seeks a spot to hide in the fields. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, the only sound is our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky turns a shade lighter ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Caught

Overhead, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have taken advantage of the warmer months in northern regions, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year winds down and cold breezes bring the early cold of winter, they journey to warmer places to find food and shelter.

There are over 1500 bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the global population – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow cross through China.

The patch of grassland in question, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer scant chance to rest among towering rows of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.

A net we almost encountered was stretched across a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. At its center, a small finch was desperately trying to untangle itself, 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 "indicator species" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"In the early days, no-one cared," he states.

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and launched a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and invited the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police realized that catching poachers also helped in uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that implementation remains inconsistent.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a much changed capital.

He remembers exploring the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were considered areas for development, not conservation areas to preserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

"I made the choice back then to work in conservation and I chose this direction," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. 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 remembers. 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 not many are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, 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 hunt the hunters.

He studies aerial photos to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups 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 wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons 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 originates from the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"This generation didn't even have 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 formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Disrupted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He tells 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 created their own market.

The area alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional 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 today there would be no sales because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and taking names. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his