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The conservationist's vision darts over miles of open meadows, searching for suspicious activity in the early morning gloom.

He utters a hushed tone as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the open area. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten ahead of sunrise, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Snared

Across the heavens, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the extended daylight in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and chilling gusts bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to warmer places to breed and eat.

China is home to 1500-plus bird species, accounting for 13% of the global population – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major flyways they follow intersect in China.

This particular field being monitored, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so delicate you can barely see them.

The trap we stumbled upon was extending over half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a tiny bird was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Hunting the Hunters

The conservationist, in his thirties, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Initially, no-one cared," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and established a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held community gatherings and brought in the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police found that catching poachers also led to identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that enforcement is still patchy.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

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

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered land for construction, not sanctuaries to conserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I made the choice back then to work in conservation and I took this path," he says.

It has not been an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his associates who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work demands stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, 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 donations have dipped because of the economic situation.

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

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

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats sell for a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the fines to deter the activity do not exceed the financial benefits 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 elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that numerous birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Disrupted

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

Another man is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

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

We were told that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a traditional dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

But on this occasion there would be no sales 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