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The conservationist's gaze sweeps over miles of tall grassland, looking for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in a hushed tone as we try to find a concealed position in the grasslands. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, 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 Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and cold breezes bring the early cold of winter, they journey to more temperate climates to nest and feed.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, representing roughly 13% 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 area of meadow being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an refuge 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 "barely visible nets", so fine you can hardly spot them.

A net we almost encountered was strung across a large section of the field and held up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was struggling frantically to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its ecosystem.

Tracking the Trappers

The conservationist, in his thirties, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has forgone many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

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

So he gathered a team who did care and established a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent 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, noting that enforcement is still patchy.

His passion for avian life started in childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

He recalls exploring the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were viewed as empty places to build, not protected zones to preserve.

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

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

This has not made for an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled 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 lost his team of helpers 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.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations covers 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 track the poachers.

He examines aerial photos 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 netting setups which can capture scores of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species command a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

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 mark of prestige. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. 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 extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

Another man stands outside 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 is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

The area alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.

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