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The activist's eyes scan across miles of tall grassland, hunting for any movement in the early morning gloom.

He utters less than a whisper as the team seeks a place of cover in the open area. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Snared

Overhead, billions of birds, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating 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.

China is home to more than 1,500 bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Several of the major flyways they follow intersect in China.

This particular field being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer little opportunity to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "fine nets", so fine you can hardly spot them.

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across a large section of the field and held up with wooden sticks. At its center, a tiny bird was desperately trying to escape, 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" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

Silva, who is in his 30s, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has given up on many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

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

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and formed a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized community gatherings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion have shown results. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

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

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a much changed capital.

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

Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered land for construction, not sanctuaries to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the wildlife they housed.

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

It has not been an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined because of the economic situation.

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines aerial photos to find the routes created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species command a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the fines to punish the crime do not outweigh 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 originates from the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth about 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 typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to dentures.

Information suggested that protected birds 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 traditional 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 transactions because the police had arrived. They were interviewing the bird owners and taking names. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his