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Silva Gu's vision darts across miles of open meadows, looking for any movement in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters a hushed tone as we try to find a concealed position in the open area. Behind us, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.

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

Trapped

In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they journey to southern locales to find food and shelter.

China is home to more than 1,500 bird species, which is about 13% of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow intersect in China.

The patch of grassland in question, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer scant chance to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "mist 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 bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was fighting hard to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

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

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"In the early days, no-one cared," he states.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and invited the officials of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of persuasion have shown results. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

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 a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered empty places to build, not protected zones to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands receded, as did the habitats they supported.

"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. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says few people are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but support has waned because of the slowing economy.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines satellite imagery to find the routes worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can catch scores of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species 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 argues the penalties 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 Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites 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 may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice 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."

Disrupted

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

Another man stands outside 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 is a glimpse 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 sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

Information suggested that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a troop 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 arrived. They were interviewing the bird owners and taking names. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his