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The activist's vision darts across vast expanses of tall grassland, hunting for any movement in the inky blackness.

He utters a muted voice as we try to find a concealed position in the fields. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, we hear only our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Snared

Across the heavens, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have benefited from the warmer months in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to warmer places to nest and feed.

The nation hosts over 1500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major flyways they follow converge in China.

This particular field where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the city skies offer few options to rest among clusters of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was strung across half the length of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was desperately trying to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Tracking the Trappers

The conservationist, in his thirties, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has given up on many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, 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 gathered a team who were concerned and launched a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held public meetings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that enforcement is still patchy.

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

He recalls roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered empty places to build, not conservation areas to preserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I chose this direction," 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 retaliated.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he went to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work demands covert operations and lost sleep. 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 address this major issue, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. 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 adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines aerial photos to find the trails 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 netting setups which can catch scores of small birds during darkness.

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

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the fines to deter the activity do not exceed the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. 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 adopted the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. 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 chirping songbirds.

Another man is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He tells 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 created their own market.

The path by the river stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. 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 black fabric.

But today there would be no sales because the police had arrived. They were interviewing the bird owners and taking names. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his