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Silva Gu's vision darts across miles of tall grassland, hunting for suspicious activity in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a muted voice as they attempt to locate a concealed position in the fields. In the distance, 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. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

Across the heavens, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to nest and feed.

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

The patch of grassland where we were, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was stretched across a large section of the field and supported with wooden sticks. At its center, a tiny bird was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

This 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.

Hunting the Hunters

This activist, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Back in 2015, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and formed a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that enforcement is still patchy.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

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

Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as land for construction, not protected zones to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," he says.

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

"He assembled several of his associates who surrounded 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 lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

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

So he has adopted new ways to track the poachers.

He analyzes satellite imagery to find the paths created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can catch hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species sell for a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the penalties to deter the activity do not exceed the financial benefits of catching and selling 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 for their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are breaking the law, or grasp that numerous birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're really hard to change."

Apprehended

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

Another man is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, 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 alongside the water extends over several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to dentures.

Information suggested that protected birds could be bought 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 choreographing a traditional 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 black fabric.

But today there would be no sales because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his