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The activist's vision darts across vast expanses of dense fields, looking for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

He speaks in less than a whisper as we try to find a concealed position in the fields. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, we hear footsteps. The poachers are here.

Snared

Overhead, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have taken advantage of the long summer days in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to breed and eat.

The nation hosts over 1500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow converge in China.

This particular field being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – farther in 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 hardly spot them.

The trap we stumbled upon was stretched across half the length of the field and supported with wooden sticks. At its center, a small finch was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its ecosystem.

Pursuing the Poachers

The conservationist, in his thirties, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Initially, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police realized that catching poachers also led to tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

He recalls roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were viewed as empty places to build, not sanctuaries to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I made the choice back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I chose this direction," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his associates who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he reported 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 covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous 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 can't do it part-time."

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

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He studies satellite imagery to find the paths worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a premium," 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 reckons the fines to deter the activity do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

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

This custom that continues mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that numerous birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're really hard to change."

Apprehended

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. 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 created their own market.

The path by the river stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to dentures.

We were told that wild songbirds could be purchased in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were performing a traditional 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 today there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his