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Silva Gu's eyes scan across miles of dense fields, hunting for any movement in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a hushed tone as the team seeks a concealed position in the open area. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, we hear only our own breath.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The poachers are here.

Caught

In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have utilized the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the initial freeze of winter, they journey to southern locales to nest and feed.

There are over 1500 bird species, which is about 13% of the global population – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major migration routes they follow converge in China.

The patch of grassland in question, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer few options 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 stretched across a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. At its center, a tiny bird was fighting hard to escape, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

This was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

Silva, who is in his 30s, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many nights of sleep to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"In the early days, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and invited the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy have shown results. The police realized that catching poachers also helped in tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that implementation remains inconsistent.

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

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

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered land for construction, not protected zones to conserve.

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

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," 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 confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are prepared for 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 a year – but funding has declined because of the economic situation.

So he has developed new ways to track the poachers.

He analyzes aerial photos to find the paths 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 lines of net traps which can catch scores of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the fines to punish the crime 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 imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds were killed 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 caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about the environment. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."

Busted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual is positioned near a local 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 is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

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

We were told that protected birds 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 performing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

But today there would be no transactions 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