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Silva Gu's eyes scan over vast expanses of tall grassland, searching for any movement in the inky blackness.

He utters a muted voice as we try to find a place of cover in the open area. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, we hear only the sound of breathing.

Suddenly, as the sky turns a shade lighter before dawn, there is the crunch of footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Caught

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

They have utilized the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they head to warmer places to find food and shelter.

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

This particular field being monitored, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was extending over a large section of the field and held up with bamboo poles. At its center, a small finch was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its population is healthy, so is its habitat.

Hunting the Hunters

This activist, carries out this mission 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 urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Initially, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he gathered a team who did care and launched a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held public meetings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

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

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not conservation areas to conserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

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

This has not made for an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must give it your all. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the economic situation.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He studies satellite imagery to find the trails 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.

"Certain prized species sell for a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"These individuals 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 the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."

Busted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.

A separate individual is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

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 protected birds could be bought in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting 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 multiple in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

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