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The conservationist's vision darts over vast expanses of tall grassland, searching for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters less than a whisper as the team seeks a place of cover in the open area. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, the only sound is our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Trapped

Overhead, countless migratory birds, many so small that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they journey to southern locales to find food and shelter.

There are 1500-plus bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the world's total – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major paths they follow converge in China.

The area of meadow 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 clusters of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was stretched across half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, 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 "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its ecosystem.

Pursuing the Poachers

Silva, who is in his 30s, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has given up on many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Initially, there was little interest," he says.

So he gathered a team who were concerned and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police discovered that catching poachers also helped in uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

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

His passion for avian life started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

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

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the wildlife they housed.

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

It has not been an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He gathered several of his associates who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva recalls. 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 requires covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but support has waned because of the economic situation.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes satellite imagery to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can catch hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats sell for a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the fines to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits 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 elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

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

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

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

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

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

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had gathered 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 appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and taking names. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his