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Silva Gu's eyes scan across vast expanses of tall grassland, looking for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He utters a muted voice as we try to find a spot to hide in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Trapped

In the skies above us, billions of birds, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and cold breezes bring the early cold of winter, they journey to warmer places to nest and feed.

There are 1500-plus bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the world's total – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major flyways they follow cross through China.

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

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

A net we almost encountered was strung across half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a meadow pipit was struggling frantically to escape, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.

Tracking the Trappers

The conservationist, in his thirties, does this work for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

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

So he enlisted helpers who did care and formed a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized community gatherings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.

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

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.

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

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not protected zones to conserve.

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

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

This has not made for an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," 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 patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.

So he has found new ways to track the poachers.

He examines 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 rest. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can capture scores of small birds during darkness.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats sell for a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

While there are environmental regulations 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 people in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand 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 often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Busted

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

A separate individual stands outside a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

We were told 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 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 two or three in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.

But today there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. 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