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The conservationist's gaze sweeps across miles of tall grassland, hunting for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

He utters a muted voice as we try to find a place of cover 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 starts to lighten ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The poachers are here.

Trapped

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

They have taken advantage of the warmer months in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to nest and feed.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Several of the major migration routes they follow converge in China.

The patch of grassland where we were, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer few options to rest among clusters of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was strung across a large section of the field and held up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was desperately trying to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its ecosystem.

Pursuing the Poachers

Silva, who is in his 30s, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has forgone many nights of sleep to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Back in 2015, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he gathered a team who did care and established a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and invited the officials of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police realized that catching poachers also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

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

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a much changed capital.

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

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

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

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

It has not been an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

"He gathered several of his associates who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

He has also seen the departure of 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.

"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 pays for 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 analyzes aerial photos to find the paths created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show lines of net traps which can capture scores of small birds during darkness.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the fines to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Keeping a caged 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 to display their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about ecology. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."

Apprehended

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

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

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

Information suggested that protected birds 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 congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.

But on this occasion there would be no sales 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