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The activist's gaze sweeps over miles of dense fields, hunting for any movement in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in less than a whisper as they attempt to locate a place of cover in the fields. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Trapped

Overhead, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they journey to warmer places to nest and feed.

China is home to over 1500 bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the world's total – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major paths they follow cross through China.

The area of meadow in question, 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 "barely visible nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.

The trap we stumbled upon was stretched across a large section of the field and held up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a tiny bird 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 "indicator species" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

Silva, who is in his 30s, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Back in 2015, no-one cared," he says.

So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also led to uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

He recalls exploring 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 fast-paced development meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not sanctuaries to conserve.

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

"I made the choice back then to work in conservation and I took this path," he says.

It has not been an easy life. A major 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 assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to solve this big problem, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

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

So he has found new ways to track the poachers.

He studies aerial photos 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 netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"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 often affluent."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the penalties to deter the activity do not exceed the potential profits 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 ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."

Busted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

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

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

The area alongside the water extends over several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

We were told that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop 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 on this occasion there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. They were questioning the bird owners and taking names. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his