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Silva Gu's gaze sweeps over vast expanses of dense fields, searching for suspicious activity in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in a muted voice as the team seeks a place of cover in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter before dawn, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Trapped

In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year winds down and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they journey to more temperate climates to breed and eat.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the planet's species – more than 800 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 edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – any further and the city skies offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "mist nets", so delicate you can almost miss them.

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a small finch was struggling frantically to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

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

Tracking the Trappers

The conservationist, in his thirties, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has given up on many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

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

So he enlisted helpers who did care and formed a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized public meetings and brought in the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

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

He remembers exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not conservation areas to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

"I made the choice back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I chose this direction," he says.

This has not made for an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported 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 requires patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky 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 pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes aerial photos to find the paths worn away 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 capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats sell for a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are set, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

Along a riverside path 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 dark cloth. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

The area by the river stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to dentures.

Information suggested that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing 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. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his