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The activist's gaze sweeps over vast expanses of dense fields, hunting for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in a muted voice as we try to find 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 sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter before dawn, the sound of footsteps emerges. The hunters have arrived.

Trapped

Across the heavens, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming bugs and berries. 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 over 1500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. 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 urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among forests 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 strung across a large section of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a tiny bird was fighting hard to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

This was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – that means if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

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

So he gathered a team who did care and launched a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held community gatherings and invited the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police realized that catching poachers also helped in tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that the response is not uniform.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers wandering in the fields on the city's edges where he encountered 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 empty places to build, not sanctuaries to conserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.

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

It has not been an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who confronted me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to solve this big problem, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the economic situation.

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes satellite imagery to find the paths worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths 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 sell for a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."

While 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 people in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are set, they're really hard to change."

Apprehended

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

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

The area alongside the water extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

Information suggested that protected birds could be purchased in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a group 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 today there would be no sales because the police had appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and taking names. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his