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Silva Gu's eyes scan over vast expanses of dense fields, searching for any movement in the early morning gloom.

He speaks in a muted voice as the team seeks a place of cover in the grasslands. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only our own breath.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, the sound of footsteps emerges. The hunters have arrived.

Trapped

Overhead, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the long summer days in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year winds down and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they journey to warmer places to breed and eat.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, which is about 13% of the global population – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow cross through China.

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

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

A net we almost encountered was strung across half the length of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was fighting hard to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Tracking the Trappers

Silva, who is in his 30s, does this work for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

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

So he gathered a team who were concerned and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and brought in the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of advocacy have shown results. The police found that catching poachers also led to tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that implementation remains inconsistent.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.

He remembers wandering in the grasslands on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not conservation areas to preserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands receded, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

"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 discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says fundraising 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 hunt the hunters.

He analyzes aerial photos to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He charts these 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 during darkness.

"Certain prized species command a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the fines to deter the activity do not outweigh the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This originates from the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

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 discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

The path by the river extends over several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a small park. It was easy to find.

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 gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

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