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The activist's eyes scan over vast expanses of tall grassland, hunting for suspicious activity in the inky blackness.

He utters a hushed tone as the team seeks a spot to hide in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, the only sound is our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten before dawn, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Trapped

In the skies above us, billions of birds, many so small that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to southern locales to nest and feed.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, accounting for 13% of the global population – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Several of the major flyways they follow intersect in China.

This particular field where we were, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer scant chance to rest among forests of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "fine nets", so thin you can almost miss them.

The one we nearly walked into 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 moved, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, does this work for free using his own savings. He has forgone many nights of sleep to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Back in 2015, no-one cared," he states.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and invited the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of persuasion have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that enforcement is still patchy.

Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

He recalls exploring the fields on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were viewed as empty places to build, not protected zones to preserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I decided back then to work in conservation and I took this path," he says.

This has not made for an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he went 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 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 solve this big problem, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says fundraising covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – 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 routes worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can catch scores of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species sell for a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the penalties to punish the crime 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 status symbol. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."

Apprehended

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

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city 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 old trinkets to dentures.

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.

But today there would be no sales because the police had arrived. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his