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The conservationist's eyes scan over miles of dense fields, looking for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He utters a hushed tone as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the open area. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, the sound of footsteps emerges. 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 journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the long summer days in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they head to warmer places to breed and eat.

There are more than 1,500 bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the global population – more than 800 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 fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was strung across half the length of the field and supported with wooden sticks. At its center, a tiny bird was fighting hard to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

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

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, does this work for free using his own savings. He has forgone many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"In the early days, there was little interest," he says.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and established a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held public meetings and brought in the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," 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 very different Beijing.

He recalls exploring the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered empty places to build, not protected zones to conserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who surrounded 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 covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky 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 give it your all. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He studies satellite imagery to find the trails created by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can capture scores of small birds during darkness.

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

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the fines to deter the activity do not outweigh the financial benefits 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. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about the environment. Once people's attitudes are set, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.

The area by the river extends over several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

We were told that wild songbirds could be purchased in a small park. 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. Close by several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

But on this occasion there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. 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