Tracking Poachers Who Illegally Snare the Nation's Rare Wild Birds.

Silva Gu's vision darts over vast expanses of open meadows, searching for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He speaks in less than a whisper as the team seeks a concealed position in the fields. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing has yet to wake. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, the sound of footsteps emerges. The hunters have arrived.

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 utilized the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and cold breezes bring the first frosts of winter, they head to warmer places to breed and eat.

The nation hosts over 1500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the global population – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow cross through China.

This particular field in question, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer few options to rest among towering rows of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was extending over a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. At its center, a tiny bird was fighting hard to free his legs, 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" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

The conservationist, in his thirties, does this work for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"In the early days, authorities were indifferent," he says.

So he gathered a team who were concerned and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

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

China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were seen as empty places to build, not conservation areas to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the habitats they supported.

"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.

It has not been an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his associates 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 requires patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission 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 support has waned because of the slowing economy.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines 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 stop for the night. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can catch hundreds of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats sell for a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the fines to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that numerous birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have inherited the practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about the environment. Once people's attitudes are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Disrupted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

Another man stands outside a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in 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 informal vendors have created their own market.

The path alongside the water extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Close by 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 on this occasion there would be no sales because the police had appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his