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The conservationist's eyes scan across miles of open meadows, searching for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

He utters a hushed tone as the team seeks a place of cover in the fields. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only our own breath.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

Overhead, billions of birds, many so small that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the early cold of winter, they journey to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

There are 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly 13% of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow intersect in China.

This particular field where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – any further and the city skies offer scant chance to rest among clusters 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 extending over half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a meadow pipit was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Hunting the Hunters

The conservationist, in his thirties, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Back in 2015, there was little interest," he states.

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

"We found our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were seen as empty places to build, not sanctuaries to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the habitats they supported.

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

"He gathered several of his accomplices who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.

So he has developed new ways to track the poachers.

He analyzes satellite imagery 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 aerial views can even show netting setups which can capture scores of small birds at night.

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

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the fines 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 Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that so many more birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

A separate individual stands outside a local 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 offers a view of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

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

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.

Loud music played 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 gathered with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

But on this occasion there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his