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Silva Gu's gaze sweeps across miles of dense fields, searching for suspicious activity in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in less than a whisper as we try to find a place of cover in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Caught

Overhead, countless migratory birds, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and chilling gusts bring the early cold of winter, they journey to warmer places to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about 13% of the world's total – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major migration routes they follow intersect in China.

The area of meadow in question, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among towering rows of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was extending over half the length of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a meadow pipit was desperately trying to escape, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has given up on many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Initially, no-one cared," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and established a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held community gatherings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police found that catching poachers also led to uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, while pointing out that the response is not uniform.

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

He remembers roaming through 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 millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were viewed as empty places to build, not conservation areas to conserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the wildlife they housed.

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

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

"He gathered several of his associates who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he went to the police but the perpetrators 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 few people are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says fundraising pays for 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 examines aerial photos to find the routes created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species 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 argues 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 Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens 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 caged bird.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

A separate individual stands outside a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

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

The path by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

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