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Silva Gu's eyes scan across vast expanses of tall grassland, hunting for suspicious activity in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters a muted voice as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the grasslands. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

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

Caught

In the skies above us, billions of birds, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to warmer places to find food and shelter.

There are more than 1,500 bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow cross through China.

This particular field being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – any further and the city skies offer few options to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.

A net we almost encountered was extending over a large section of the field and held up with wooden sticks. At its center, a small finch was struggling frantically to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, performs this duty 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 persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Initially, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and formed a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion have shown results. The police discovered that catching poachers also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, while pointing out that enforcement is still patchy.

Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a much changed capital.

He recalls exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were considered land for construction, not sanctuaries to conserve.

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

"I decided back then to work in conservation and I followed this course," he says.

It has not been an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

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

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work demands 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 treat it as a mission because if you want to solve this big problem, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising pays for 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 paths created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can catch scores of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers 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 punish the crime do not exceed the financial benefits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Owning a pet 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 to display their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens 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 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. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, 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 is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

The path by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

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

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a group 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 dark cloth.

But on this occasion there would be no sales 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