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The activist's vision darts across miles of tall grassland, searching for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a hushed tone as we try to find a concealed position in the fields. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, the sound of footsteps emerges. The poachers are here.

Caught

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

They have benefited from the warmer months in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year winds down and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to southern locales to breed and eat.

There are more than 1,500 bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major migration routes they follow cross through China.

The patch of grassland in question, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer scant chance to rest among forests of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was strung across half the length of the field and held up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a tiny bird was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Initially, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and launched a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized community gatherings and brought in the officials of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion have shown results. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that enforcement is still patchy.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.

He remembers exploring the fields on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

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 sanctuaries to preserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands receded, as did the habitats they supported.

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

It has not been an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many are willing to take on 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 commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but support has waned because of the economic situation.

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines satellite imagery to find the paths worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show lines of net traps which can capture hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species sell for a high price," 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 believes the fines to punish the crime do not outweigh the financial benefits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that so many more birds had to die 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 practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Busted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual stands outside a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

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

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

We were told that protected birds could be bought in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

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