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The activist's eyes scan across miles of tall grassland, hunting for suspicious activity in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a muted voice as we try to find a spot to hide in the open area. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

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 taken advantage of the extended daylight in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and cold breezes bring the early cold of winter, they journey to warmer places to nest and feed.

China is home to over 1500 bird species, representing roughly 13% of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major flyways they follow converge in China.

This particular field in question, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among forests of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was stretched across half the length of the field and supported with bamboo poles. In the middle, a meadow pipit was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.

Tracking the Trappers

Silva, who is in his 30s, does this work for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

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

So he gathered a team who did care and formed a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and brought in the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

He recalls exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were considered land for construction, not sanctuaries to preserve.

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

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

It has not been an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his associates who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says few people are prepared for 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 covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.

So he has found new ways to track the poachers.

He studies aerial photos to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The aerial views 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 quite wealthy."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the fines to deter the activity do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, 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 growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Busted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

The path by the river stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

We were told that protected birds could be bought in a nearby green space. 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. Nearby several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three 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 claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his